Hard Way Home
by LittleWhiteWolf
Summary: (second draft essentially of This Is War, also posted on Ao3) Caden Tabris never went looking for trouble, but it found her on her wedding day. Now she's thrust into a life she never could have imagined for herself, tasked with uniting Ferelden to fight the Blight that bears down upon them. (Disclaimers: BioWare owns everything)
1. Half The World Away

**Half The World Away**

_I would like to leave this city, this old town don't smell too pretty_

The knock on the door and the call that followed through the worn wood was meant to rouse her, but Caden had been awake since a little past dawn. She was sat cross-legged on her bed, viewing her meagre possessions one after the other.

"I'm up, Shianni," she called. "I'll be out soon." She heard her cousin move off, satisfied that her first task as bridesmaid was complete. The blushing bride was up and getting ready. Caden made no move to that effect; she wanted to go over her things one more time. Today she would leave her childhood behind and become an adult. She needed to see what could make that transition with her and what would need leaving behind.

Her most prized possessions were the first items laid out before her on the bed. Her mother's supple leather boots, by far the fanciest item of clothing she owned, as well as being the most practical. With these boots, decorated with patterns of leaves and swirls, evoking an autumn breeze as it stirred through the trees, Caden could move so quietly that she wagered she could creep up on any animal. She had practised her stealthy hunting ever since she had grown into the footwear on the rats that made their homes alongside the elves in the Alienage and had almost caught one once. She would be hard pressed to leave them anywhere, so she picked them up and straightened her legs, sliding her feet into the boots. There. That was better. Caden smiled to herself as she reached for her other family heirloom and turned it over in her hands. The crack in the roof at the foot of her bed let the morning sunlight spear the room and Caden winced as the light bounced from the knife in her hands into her eye. She laughed in spite of herself and blinked; this knife was her mother's second favoured item, one that her father liked to pretend didn't exist. As Caden sheathed the weapon in the special hidden casing inside the lining of her left boot, she remembered the first time Adaia had handed her the weapon, how large the knife had felt in her small hands.

Those were the most important things that Caden owned, though she still had a few more possessions. There was a small pile of letters bound in a scrap of ribbon, her record of the correspondence she had enjoyed with her husband-to-be. He would be arriving that day and she would look upon him for the first time, hear his voice, see his face. But at least with the few letters- couriers being an expensive luxury for the badly paid elves of Denerim- she at least felt like she knew Nelaros of Highever better than a stranger. It was more than many of her peers got; her cousin Soris had married a woman from another Alienage having never met her before the ceremony. It had worked out for him, but others did not always fare so well. Thea, a woman only a few years older than Caden, had been matched with a man she obviously despised and was not afraid to unleash her ire on anyone she felt like blaming for her circumstances. Caden had had an altercation with her only the previous day, where Thea had scorned that Caden was privileged thanks to her father's savings, that he had managed to score Caden a good match with a decent sort. Of course, how Thea would have any idea how much money Caden's father Cyrion had spent on her dowry or how she would know whether Nelaros was a good guy, given that she had no insight into the family funds or Caden's betrothed wasn't worth wondering about. The woman was bitter and that had turned her cruel.

Caden's mother had always instilled in her the importance of marrying a person for love, or as near as could be achieved, which was why Adaia had taught Caden to read and write when others had missed that lesson. Adaia had been Caden's teacher in many ways, enabling Caden to write to her betrothed and, she thought of the knife in her boot, how to defend herself if ever her trust in men proved to be a mistake. Adaia and Cyrion had been lucky to grow up together, to know one another and fall in love before getting married two decades ago. They were Caden's guiding light to love and friendship, and they had had thirteen years together before sickness had struck the household. Caden still remembered how frightening it had been to feel so weak and helpless, how her even sicker mother had held her. She also remembered slipping into blackness for several days, only to find when the fever finally broke that Adaia had passed away.

Her final belongings were the three books she owned, slim dog-eared items, bound in shabby leather, these were books that humans had thrown out. They comprised the majority of her lessons in words, and each one had her shaky, early handwriting inside each cover, spelling out _Caden Tabris_. They were _hers_, all of these things were hers, and she couldn't bear the thought of leaving them behind. She gathered up the letters and the books and slipped them under her pillow. She would keep the boots and the hidden knife with her, but the rest could be collected later when she and Nelaros were presented with a room in the marriage house. They would get a bigger place to live when she became pregnant, fulfilling her first duty as a new wife. Caden's insides constricted at that thought. She was not yet twenty years old and still felt very unprepared for impending motherhood, in spite of being on the cusp of adulthood. It was a strange feeling to be considered still a child at this moment and to know that within a few hours she would be a married grown woman and all that came with that new position. Caden let out a shaky breath. She might have been approaching this milestone of growing up, but she wanted her mother in that moment.

Another knock came to the door to announce that the gathering from Highever had arrived, including her fiancé. Caden blanched. "I'm coming, Shianni." She shook her head and pushed outside.

Her redheaded cousin was beaming in the sunshine and Caden couldn't help but smile to see her. A year her junior, Shianni was desperate to get married and openly jealous of Caden's nuptials, although she was never unkind with it like Thea. Shianni slipped her hand through Caden's arm and tugged her close. "Todays the day!"

"I know," Caden said evenly, ignoring the butterflies in her belly that were making their presence known in earnest now. "I suppose I had better go and greet my... greet Nelaros."

The two girls, one giggling, one reserved, headed for the Alienage gates where a crowd of elves had formed. It had been a while since there had been a wedding in Denerim for the elves and they were all curious to see the new arrivals. Nelaros had travelled with a small party of older elves, the intention being to safeguard his journey and to prompt some discussions with the elders of the town to broker some more matches. Shianni was scanning the faces for an unknown young man, but her eyes kept straying to the elders, hoping they would spy her and wish to make enquiries as to her suitability. Caden kept a firm grip on her friends arm until someone tapped her on the shoulder and she turned, already knowing who she would see. She didn't recognise him, of course, that would have been impossible, but she knew who he was. "Nelaros." She said, warmth on her tongue in spite of her nerves.

Nelaros was handsome; slender and tall for an elf. They had similar colouring, though his eyes were green to her blue and his yellow hair was paler than hers. Her mind leapt to children again, how clearly she could see their offspring with their similar appearances, though she pushed those thoughts away.

Nelaros smiled, brightening his travel worn face. He reached out his hands and took hers - Shianni tactfully moving away from her cousin and leaving her open to Nelaros' reach - clasping both of his over hers. "It is so good to finally meet you, Caden." In a bold move, he lifted her hands and pressed his lips to the back of her hand. Caden felt his breath on the silver scar that scoured her knuckles and momentarily felt embarrassed by it. He didn't seem to notice.

"Well met, Nelaros," Caden managed after a moment pause. "But how did you know it was me?"

Nelaros grinned and nodded towards Cyrion who was standing with the hahren Valendrian, watching the two. "Your father pointed you out for me. I am glad to finally look upon your face. I have looked forward to this moment for so long."

Caden nodded and a few moments elapsed before she realised it was probably expected that she should return the sentiments. "I've enjoyed your letters." She said grasping for something to say. "I'll miss them now you're here." Inwardly she cringed. What a way to make someone feel welcome, by bemoaning a future without long range correspondence.

Nelaros, to his credit, laughed. Her hand was still lying between his, and was starting to feel quite hot. "I have enjoyed yours as well, though I look forward to learning more about you after our wedding."

Caden thought of the knife in her boot and of her father's words the night before, how he had warned her to keep the part of her that knew how to fight away from her husband. She tucked the foot that hid the knife behind the other. "Mm-hmm."

As if they sensed a potentially awkward silence descending on the couple, Cyrion and hahren Valendrian appeared beside them.

"What a fine pairing you make, Caden, Nelaros." Cyrion said, wrapping an arm around his daughters' shoulders. Caden's hand slid from between Nelaros' and she leaned into her father's embrace. It was rare for her to feel as though she were making her father proud. Too often in her youth had she given him reason to sigh and look upon her with disappointment. Too much scrapping, too many fights. Despite her reservations for the day, it was nice to bask in the glow of Cyrions approval for once.

"I am honoured," Nelaros said with a bow to Cyrion and another to Valendrian, he having been instrumental in signing off on the match before the wedding could go ahead. "Andraste has blessed me greatly."

"I felt the same when my daughter was born," Cyrion said. "See that you protect her."

"Father..." Caden protested weakly, but he shot her a look to drop any assurances of how she could look after herself before she could begin. She clamped her mouth shut. If it would make her father happy to have her pretend that she wasn't skilled in the fighting arts then so be it. Nelaros could learn that later, when they were wed.

The men continued to talk and Cyrion released Caden after a short while. She listened with only half an ear to the conversation around her. Her gaze drifted over the dais where the wedding ceremony would take place and her stomach swooped unpleasantly. Keen to avoid the thought of her wedding and the complicated feelings that evoked, she looked away, her eyes alighting on a human man who was speaking with another elder. She gripped her father's arm to get his attention. "There is a human here."

Cyrion followed her gaze and nodded, as Valendrian chuckled. "Don't fret, child." He said in his usual calm manner. "Duncan is an old friend."

Caden's eyes narrowed. "There are friends and there are humans. There are no human friends."

Cyrion huffed, crossly. "Caden, mind yourself."

Valendrian didn't look perturbed and caught Duncan's attention as his conversation came to a close; the tall bearded man made his way towards them. "Duncan is a Grey Warden, young Caden."

Her eyes widened at once as the man drew closer. She knew of the Grey Wardens through her mother's stories and the idea of one being in the Alienage ignited an interest in her that had been missing so far that morning. The man called Duncan reached the small group and Caden watched as the human offered his hand to her hahren of many years for him to shake. It seemed so strange to watch this friendly exchange; her entire experience of humans interacting with elves was one of disinterest at best, cruelty at worst.

Cyrion turned to Caden. "My dear, why don't you go and get ready. We shouldn't delay the service." Caden glanced at the Grey Warden who was speaking quietly with Valendrian and then nodded to her father.

"Of course." She threw a small smile to Nelaros. "See you soon, I guess."

Shianni sat behind Caden and gathered her golden hair up to fix it into a neat bun. "I'm so excited, are you excited?" Caden made a small, non-committal noise, but Shianni didn't seem to notice the fact that the bride's enthusiasm didn't quite match her own. "Nelaros looks so handsome. Did he ever tell you he was handsome in his letters? I guess not; who writes about themselves that way?"

"Why do you think the Grey Wardens here?" Caden asked Shianni worked on her hair.

"Who?" Shianni sounded confused. "Oh, that human man? I didn't know he was one."

"Do you think he's just visiting Valendrian?" Caden wondered. "They seem to be friends."

"Who knows." Shianni said, breezily. "Not like it matters to you. Your whole life is going to change really soon." Caden felt Shianni lean forwards and hug her from behind, mindful of the hair she had just fixed in place. "Can you believe it?"

"I... I really can't." Caden stood and went to her bed as Shianni set her own hair into a plait. She brushed down the sheet, taking an inordinate amount of time to smooth an already made bed, before finally standing and reaching for the dress on the trunk at the foot of her bed. With shaking fingers, she pulled off her casual clothes and stepped into the white shift. As wedding dresses went it was both plain and exquisite, certainly for the Alienage. It was Adaias gown from her wedding to Cyrion, carefully kept all these years. Caden felt a weight of expectation in the dress, despite its light cotton and lace material. Shianni gave a squeal of joy and then Caden felt her start to pull the ribbons together at the back, tightening the gown over her waist. Caden looked down at her naked ring finger, imagining a band of gold adorning it. She glanced at her other hand, feeling the shape of the knife in her boot and picturing it in her palm.

Shianni tied the laces into a knot and sighed happily. "It's time."

The groom stood tall and proud. Cyrion looked on with delight beaming from his face. Shianni was sniffing as she stood near Caden. The Chantry sister who was performing the ceremony was talking about the Light of Andraste. Caden hardly heard it. Barely saw the faces watching. Nelaros said something softly, but she heard him as though he were speaking under water. The edges of everything were blurring. And then a flash of colour. Caden turned, her gaze immediately locking onto the group of humans who had noticed the commotion and were descending upon the wedding party. Her eyes narrowed and she stepped forward. She knew this shem. She heard Shiannis sharp intake of breath; they _both_ knew this man and Caden quickly put herself in front of her cousin, who had always had the eye of this shem.

"What's this? A party?" the man brayed as he drew closer, an unpleasant sneer across his face. Caden bristled, but kept quiet. The Chantry sister faltered, mid-sentence, turning to him in alarm. "I can't believe I wasn't invited; you all know how much I love a good knife-ear party."

"My lord!" the sister gasped, incensed at his racist remark. She obviously didn't know him well, Caden thought to herself.

Vaughan Kendells reached the dais and climbed atop. Caden reached behind her, manoeuvring Shianni so that she was between Vaughan and her cousin. "Wait a moment," Vaughan said, putting two and two together as he glanced from Caden in her gown and back to Nelaros, who was looking confused, but not afraid. "Is this a _wedding_?"

"It is, my lord," the sister replied. "If you wouldn't mind, we would like to continue."

"Oh please, it's not like this means anything," Vaughan scoffed as his cronies down in the crowd chortled. "It's like children playing with dolls." He stepped closer to Caden, who held her ground in spite of the jolt of fear at his proximity. "It's like dressing up two pigs for a funny Satinalia prank. Everyone has a good laugh, but at the end of the day, it's still just a pig in a dress."

Caden gritted her teeth. The dig at her rolled off her skin, but mentioning the dress, _her mothers dress_, ignited a fire in her belly. "Thank you for your opinion, _my lord_," her voice dripped disdain as she stressed his title. "But the only pig here is dressed in House Kendells colours."

Any humour Vaughan was getting from the situation drained from his face, to be replaced by outright disgust. "Watch yourself, knife-ear," he started, but then spied the elf cowering behind Caden. "Who's this? Ah, my favourite!"

Caden pushed Shianni and moved to block Vaughan who was trying to get closer to Shianni. "You will not touch her."

Vaughan laughed again at this, finding Caden's protection of her cousin to be the utmost in hilarity. "How sweet. You actually think you have a choice."

Caden didn't think; her hand was in a fist and that fist was connecting with Vaughan's chin before she could even blink. A dangerous hush fell over the assembled. Even the Chantry sister looked afraid.

"Caden, no," Cyrions cry came too late and he was swiftly silenced by one of the men Vaughan had brought, who dove his own fist into Caden's fathers' stomach. He dropped to the floor in a ball, winded.

"Father!" Caden jerked where she stood, torn between barricading Shianni and going to her father. The man added a kick to Cyrion for good measure. "Stop it!"

Vaughan whirled on her. "What will you give me in return if I call off my men?" He nodded to the man, who planted his boot over Cyrions face and slowly pressed down. Cyrion couldn't even cry out. Caden looked back at Vaughan who was signally to the other men to start roughing up the other elves. Those who could fled home, but within moments the floor was littered with bleeding elves. Caden felt ice cold fear shoot through her veins.

"Stop it." She said again, her voice mirrored by the exclamation of her betrothed. Nelaros jumped down from the dais and went to Caden's father, trying to get between the man and Cyrion.

Vaughan reached over and touched his fingers to Caden's chin, tilting her head up high as he looked down at her. "Very well. If you come with me now." He didn't wait for her response; Caden felt him release her chin and felt a moments relief at that before his rock-hard fist crashed into her skull and the world pitched upside down and into darkness.


	2. The Wedding List

**The Wedding List**

_You've made a wake of our honeymoon, and I'm coming for you!_

Caden groaned in the darkness. Her head was pounding an uncomfortable rhythm and the dim light hurt her eyes as she tried to open them. Blinking, she grasped at her temple and pushed herself to a sitting position. She froze for a moment, waiting for the world to cease its lurching and right itself. "Ow," she muttered to herself.

"Caden?"

Caden turned her head, another flash of pain shooting through her skull, though it was already better than before. Shianni was sat beside her, knees drawn up, voice muffled by her face resting against her arms across her legs. "Shianni!" Caden crawled across the cold stone to gather her cousin up in her arms. "What are you doing here?" She looked around the room. "Where is here?"

"The Arls estate." Shianni said in a small voice. "Vaughans men carried you here."

Caden growled low in her throat at that thought. "But why are you here?" She pulled back and searched Shiannis face. Her cousin had the same big blue eyes that Caden had, and hers were brimming with worry.

"He made me come, too." Shianni affirmed the dreadful thought Caden was forming.

"That bastard." Caden gritted her teeth. A thought struck her and she dove for her boot. She was still wearing her mothers clothes; the boots and the wedding dress, though her hair was coming loose from the bun. Her hand slid into the secret sheathe and for a moment her heart lurched as she found only leather, but in her panic, she hadn't felt far enough down. Her fingers brushed the hilt of her knife and she relaxed a little. Caden kept one hand on Shiannis arm as she sighed with relief. "They didn't find my knife."

"Your knife?"

"You know the one," Caden said. "The one my mamae taught me to use."

"Why did you have your knife on you on your wedding day?" Shianni looked bewildered, but this conversation was serving a purpose to lift some of the dread Caden could see in her face.

"I always have it on me." Caden replied darkly.

"Doesn't it scare you?" Shianni wanted to know. She shifted her seat until she was sat cross-legged beside Caden.

"The knife?" Caden met Shiannis eyes, matching a scared gaze with her stern one. "No, what scares me is being caught without it."

Caden squeezed Shiannis arm and then pushed up to a standing position. The pain in her head had abated to a dull, manageable ache and she wanted a better look around the room they were being held in. It was a basic square room, stone floor and walls. One wall was bare, that was behind the girls. Two other walls each held a lit wall sconce, the candles flickering and casting shadows in the bare room. The final wall held the wooden door. Caden knew before she tried it that the door was locked. She crouched down and peered through the keyhole. That there was no key in the lock was both helpful and frustrating; there was enough of a gap under the door that she might have been able to push the key onto something to slid back into the room and engineer their escape, but its lack meant that she could see through to the hallway beyond them. There was one guard posted at the opposite end. Caden could just about see his armour and the sword that hung from his belt. Armed and defended, but still only the one.

Caden made a decision; she turned and hurried back to Shianni. "Right, listen. I've got something of a plan forming. We need to work together, but I think I can get us out of here."

Shiannis eyes widened at the thought and she drew her limbs back together again. "I can't!"

"You can." Caden brushed Shiannis hair out of her eyes. "You can. I'll be here the whole time."

"But…" Shianni looked down, suddenly seeming so weary and wan. "What's the use? Vaughan will just keep coming back until he gets what he wants. Why not just let it be now?"

Caden struggled to keep her face neutral as she took in her cousins words. "Because he doesn't deserve us." She said in a measured voice. "Vaughan Kendells doesn't get to have us. No shem gets to have us. We are in a bad situation right now, I won't lie to you about that, but we have a chance. It might be our only chance, so we have to take it. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." Caden leaned forward, hands either side of Shiannis face and touched their foreheads together. "I'll protect you."

Shianni let out a small sob, but when Caden pulled back her cousins resolve was evident. She wasn't happy about it, that was clear, but being willing to try was enough. Caden just hoped she wouldn't let her down. Quickly Caden relayed the basic plan and they got into position.

"Help, help!" Caden cried, pounding on the door. "Please someone help!" She rattled the door knob and ducked down to glance through the keyhole again. The guard was startled by her shouts and heading over. Good. "Please, she isn't breathing!"

"Stand back," came a command and Caden obliged, allowing the guard to enter the room. He shut the door behind him, locking it again and slipping his circlet of keys back onto his belt.

"Please, I can't wake my friend." Caden said, allowing a tremor into her voice as she eye his sword and wondered how difficult it would be to filch. She let the guard walk ahead of her, over to Shianni who was lying face down and keeping very still. Caden knew she was terrified, but she just needed Shianni to hold it together for a moment. As the guard bent over Shianni, Caden dipped into her boot, pulling out her knife. It seemed so small and the shem was covered in plate. "Please, do something!" Caden begged, coming up alongside the shem, hoping his attention was focused entirely on her cousin.

"Maker, I'm not a damn healer." The guard grumbled. He bent down and touched his hand to Shiannis shoulder. Cadens eyes zeroed in on his neck, extended to look, the peach skin so vulnerable. Cadens hand shot out and dug her knife into that unprotected flesh. She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but she sank the blade through his throat and flinched as a fast spray of hot, coppery blood shot out, coating her arm. The guard let out a croak and his hand flew up to the knife, but Caden refused to let go, as if her hand was frozen to the hilt. His hand scratched at hers, but became slick with blood, and he weakened fast, pitching forward. Shianni had sprang up as soon as she heard his strangled gasp and was standing with her back pressed against the wall, far from the bloody mess Caden was quickly becoming. The guard tumbled to the ground, the knife going with him, Cadens fingers finally letting it go and then he was lying in a pool of his own blood unmoving. Caden let out a breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"I think he's dead." She said in a flat voice. She thought she would have felt different watching a man die by her hand, but she felt nothing. Carefully, she stepped closer, her foot sliding in the blood and crouched beside him. She wanted her knife back. Her hand was wet and so was the hilt, so getting a good grip was hard enough and then it didn't want to come out with a gentle tug. Caden had to pressed her other hand to his head to hold him in place as she wrenched the knife loose. The knife was bloody and Caden couldn't look away from it as she rose back up.

"You killed him," Shianni said, and it was hard to tell if she sounded upset or vindicated. Caden turned to her. Shiannis chest was rising and falling fast and her face was pale. Caden decided she was definitely not happy with the situation.

"Do you have a handkerchief?" She asked quietly. Shianni frowned but reached into a pocket to pull out a cloth with a shaking hand. Caden reached over and took it with a murmured thanks, wiping her knife down with the fabric, then sheathing it back in her boot.

"Don't you need that?" Shianni wanted to know. Caden bent down and wrapped her hand around the hilt of the guards sword, manoeuvring it out of the scabbard. "I guess not." Shianni remarked. Caden held the sword and handkerchief in one hand as she tugged loose the keys.

"Come on," she said straightening. "Lets' get you out of here."

After locking the room behind them to hide the bloody scene of murder that Caden had created, the girls sped down the hall. Shianni wouldn't let go of Cadens free hand, which was fine by Caden. Apart from the door to their room the rest of the doors were unlocked, so she was able to push them open

whilst still keeping holding of her newly acquired sword and if Shianni needed that comfort Caden wasn't about to deny it for her. They managed to avoid any more guards for a while, but when they pushed into an open hallway their luck ran out. Caden shoved through the door with her cousin to see a trio of guards by what appeared to be the front doors to the large house.

"Damn," Caden said. She'd hoped to find that door without coming across any more humans, but clearly that was too much good fortune to ask for. Shianni let out a cry as she saw the guards turn to them, shock written across their faces.

"What's that? A knife-ear with a sword?" One asked.

"These are the pair Vaughan brought back." Another added. "Don't let them escape."

Caden pulled her hand free from Shiannis and shoved her backward with the keys. "Shianni, get out of here!"

The third guard was already jumping forward so Caden couldn't see if Shianni took her direction as she raised her sword to hurriedly parry the blow. It was one thing to take a shem unawares with a stab to the neck, but these three were fully aware she was there. She had never fought humans before, the best she had managed was sparring with her mother and then after her death, practising against a straw figure she had clumsily built behind her house. They were bigger and stronger. She had to be faster. Caden tried to use her size to her advantage; ducking under a wide swing and slicing the guard in his side as she moved out of his reach. He bellowed, but his armour took much of the blow and now she had to turn swiftly to avoid the next swing from a different guard. Trying to remain aware of each guard and their proximity to her wasn't easy and as she avoiding one slice, she felt steel bite her thigh as she moved. She bit back her cry and backed up, holding her sword before her. She could still stand, that was all she needed to know and all three guards were before her. Over their shoulder she saw Shianni fumbling with the keys at the door. Thank the Maker she was getting out; now all Caden had to do was survive long enough to get to Vaughan. One guard shouted and raised his sword; that goal would be hard to achieve.

Caden thrust up her sword, the metal clanging above her. If another one went for her, she would have no way to block. The doors opened. That was something.

And then the guard driving his sword against hers yelped and dropped to the ground. The other two guards looked around and Caden, driven by a desperate need to live, took advantage of their distraction to lunge her sword into the exposed armpit of one of the guards. He screamed and fell, almost taking the sword with him, but Caden hauled it back out of his flesh. The final guard turned in shock and Caden let out a bestial cry, swinging her sword as highly as she could, cutting a gorge through the man's face.

It was only then that Caden caught sight of the person who had taken out the first guard and as she watched with wide, confused eyes, her husband to be finished the guard she had felled with a blow to the armpit. "Nelaros?"

"Caden!" He looked up, his eyes clear in spite of the horror they were in the midst of. The final living guard was howling about his face, staunching the flow of blood with his hand. "I had to come. I had to try!"

"Only you?" Caden asked, knowing the answer. Her fellow elves had made a choice; the bodies of Caden and Shianni for the rest of the Alienage. The elves were sacrificing their virtue and their sanity to avoid the rest of them being punished, which would have inevitably happened had they tried to resist the Arls son en masse. It made sense, Caden could see the logic in the choice, but that didn't stop it from hurting. They were truly on their own.

"The Grey Warden loaned me a sword." Nelaros was explaining, hurrying over to her. "See?" He held up the sword and behind him Caden saw the guard swing his towards him.

"No!" Caden yelled, trying to pull Nelaros out of the trajectory of the blade, but it sank into his back. Nelaros' eyes and mouth opened wide and round, though no sound came from him. He grasped at Caden as he fell forward, but Caden had to let him fall in order to drive her sword into the guard, who fell beside her betrothed.

"Andraste preserve us," Shianni cried, Caden hadn't realised she was still here. Caden dropped to her knees next to Nelaros. The light was gone from his staring open eyes. He was dead. Caden clenched her fist. She hadn't known him long, but he had come to save her and Shianni. He had tried, which was more than anyone else had done. In that moment she felt regret at his death, the loss of what they could have meant to each other, the life they never got to build. She'd been so nervous about marrying him, and now that that had been stolen from her, she felt sorry and sad.

And angry.

Caden reached over and fished in Nelaros' pocket until she found the rings he had brought for them to wear.

"What are you doing?" Shianni whispered. She stood beside the open door watching Caden, but her whole body was angled towards the outside, as if she were fighting against a tide pulling her out.

"This is mine," Caden said, sliding the ring onto the correct finger. It felt cold and heavy, like the weight of his death that sat on her now. Caden stood and hurried over to Shianni, pressing the other ring into her palm. "You need to figure out a way to send this one back to Highever to his kin. Tell them…" she glanced back at his prone form. "Tell them how brave he was and how proud they should be of him."

Shianni looked up at Caden. Fat tears trembled in her eyes. "What about you?"

Caden wrapped her fingers around Shiannis hand, the ring between them. "I'm going to make sure Vaughan can never touch you. Tell them it was me, when the humans come looking for the culprit. Tell them I worked alone."

"No, come on, come back with me," Shianni moaned, dragging at Cadens arm. "Come on before it's too late."

"Shianni, I love you so much," Caden said, squeezing her hand and wishing she could hold her. She was too bloody for that. "I'm going to keep you safe."

She pulled her hand free and went back to Nelaros, to pick up the second sword. It was light and short, easy enough to carry in her other hand. Caden looked back over her shoulder at Shianni, hoping she looked calm and stoic, despite the fear roiling her belly. "Now go."

Without looking back, Caden pressed forward, heading further into the house.

Her knees were shaky, but she couldn't stop. If she stopped, she might not start walking again and if she did start walking again after pausing to think about it, she might walk right out of the house. She _had_ to do this. It surely meant her death, either at the hands of Vaughan's friends or the authorities, but if removing him meant Shianni could breathe easier and sleep at night, it would be worth it. Caden only wished she could have seen her father one last time. Head high she pushed through the fear and pushed through the doors. She managed to avoid a few rooms where guards were eating at a long dining table and slipped into the kitchen where she found a cook and an elf.

"Oi, what's this?" the cook asked bemused, turning to shout for the guards. Caden's heart sank—she didn't really want to kill this man, he was only a cook after all, but if he brought the guards running…

As she hesitated the elf crept up behind the cook and brought a heavy cast iron pot down on his head. The cook crumpled to the floor. Caden offered a mirthless smile to the elf.

"My thanks," she managed. The elf nodded.

"No problem." He replied, glancing down at the unconscious cook. "I really need an excuse to hit him. Just once. But just so you know," he looked up at Caden with defiance. "I'm blaming that on you."

Caden shrugged. "Go ahead. I'll add that to my list. But listen, I need to find the Arls son. Do you know where he is?"

The elf frowned, thinking. "I don't know where he is, but I can direct you to his bed chambers."

Caden smiled grimly. "That will do fine."

She came across another guard outside Vaughan's room, who confirmed that her first kill had been discovered.

"You're the elf they're all looking for," the guard warned, reaching for a small horn at his belt. Caden darted forward, slashing both swords at his hand, bloodying it and causing him to cry out in pain. She didn't need him to call the entire garrison down upon her. Not yet. Not until she had Vaughan's dead body before her. Before he could recover from his hand wound and grab his sword, Caden drove one blade through his neck. These human men were tall, they were covered in plate metal, but Caden had righteous fury on her side and with her sword reaching their exposed necks was easy enough. He made that now familiar "hrrk" sound as she cut off his airway and let his life's blood flow. He expired before he hit the floor and Caden tugged her sword back again. Her fingers were shaking as she took the keys and unlocked Vaughan's quarters. Her adrenaline was wearing off and tiredness was setting in. She'd lost the element of surprise she'd hoped for; the dead guard was rather a giveaway outside the door. Unless she tried locking the door behind her, she wondered. Perhaps they would assume that she'd killed a guard and then been forced to turn back when confronted with a locked door? Caden dismissed the idea as soon as it was born; they knew she had keys because she'd locked her room behind her. Even so she closed the door and surveyed her surroundings.

It was a large bedroom, with an oversized bed opposite the door. There was a window either side and Caden floated the idea of opening one window and making it look like she'd escaped that way. A little blood smear on the ledge and maybe she could pull that off. Then she could hide under the massive bed and shank his ankles as he walked by.

Even as she thought this her plan was interrupted by the door opening behind her. "I thought it was you."

Caden turned upon hearing Vaughan's voice. She wasn't ready, oh Maker, she wasn't ready. But looking at his face, how he sneered down at her helped find her resolve.

"My, look at you." He said, casting his gaze up and down her. "Filthy little animal." He crossed his arms and stepped over his dead guard and in to the room, closing the door behind him. He had a sword at his belt, but was still wearing his regular fancy clothes. Caden held her pair of blades tightly. He was alone and she was twice as armed. What was he thinking, taking her on by himself? She wanted to bite back at his comments about her, but her jaw was clamped shut.

Vaughan took a step closer and she raised her swords. He crossed his arms, seemingly unperturbed. "What am I going to do with you now? You've killed some of my guards, not many, but enough to be a nuisance. I could have you executed for murder. Hang you by your pretty neck in your Alienage for all your family to see. That could be fun." Caden felt a tear dribble out of her eye, but she didn't dare wipe it away. Her blades shone in the light of the wall scones. "Of course, that would be rather final. Perhaps we can come to a different arrangement." He stepped forward again, forcing Caden to instinctively step back, cursing herself inwardly for doing so. Vaughan chuckled. "What would you say to bedding me right now, and I'll let you off with a life sentence? Maybe if you're very good I could let you serve that sentence right here, as my personal whore? Wouldn't that be lovely?" He leaned closer, ignoring the blades that were pointed towards him as Caden pulled back again, cowering against the wall. "I'd prefer you washed clean and fresh for me, but I'm sure that once I get your clothes off you're unsoiled enough." He chuckled. "For the time being at least."

In that moment she knew she'd made a mistake staying in the manor. She should have run with Shianni, gathered their things and fled Denerim. Made their way to Highever perhaps. Now she was stuck. She was damned if she would submit to his terms. She would die fighting him off if she had to. Dying suddenly seemed so very close, as if Death hovered over her shoulder. She'd been so sure of herself earlier, probably walking to her death, but now that she could see it before her eyes her courage wavered.

"I can see you aren't interested in that." Vaughan nodded. "It makes no matter; I intend to have you before I have you killed, so shall we get started?"

Caden cried out and swung, but he was ready and jumped back, drawing his sword in a smooth motion. She swung again and he easily parried the sloppy blow. He was totally calm and in control, where Caden was letting her fear and exhaustion get the better of her. _Maker, please let me take him out before he gets me. _

Vaughan wasn't pushing back, he just blocked her every blow as if this were a casual sparring exercise, rather than a fight to the death as it was for Caden. Caden kept swinging, even as in the back of her mind a voice was telling her to back off, take a breather, regroup. Her arms kept swinging, the blades keep thrusting. It was all driven by fear. _You have to be faster._

Vaughan yawned as he blocked yet another swing, but then he came alive, dancing around Caden before she could react. She started to turn, but felt Vaughan's hand grab her neck, hauling her around and throwing her towards the bed. He had been toying with her. In an effort to brace herself, Caden dropped one sword and tried to catch herself against the bed, stumbling and finding herself on her knees. She hurried to her feet again, but Vaughan was behind her, grabbing her second sword and flinging it out of her hands. She heard another clang as he dropped his, and then he had her under her armpits, lifting her up and tossing her on the bed. She bounced once, hurrying to roll over just as he leapt on top of her. Caden threw up her hands against his chest and he laughed, his hot breath misting her face. She turned her head and pushed, but he was so big and so heavy. She felt his hand on her leg, pushing them apart and drawing her knee up. With a start she remembered her knife in that boot. Like a shock of cold water the memory of her hidden blade cut through her terror and hopelessness. Caden turned her face back to him, as he slid his fingers up her side to her neck.

"It really is a very pretty neck," he said appreciatively, before wrapping his hand around it and pressing. Caden's terror was back, clutching his arm with her free hand. The other reached for her boot, pulling her leg closer. He started to laugh and wrapped his other hand around her throat. She knew he could end her right then if he wanted to, but he was still playing with her, hurting but not killing her. She had a moment. She could do this.

Her fingers found the metal hilt and she withdrew the knife from the sheathe. Vaughan liked necks, did he? So did Caden.

With a dart, she drove her knife into the side of his neck, burying the blade into the muscle and sinew, unleashing a torrent of blood, that poured onto her from above. Vaughan's eyed widened and he loosened his hold, grasping at the knife. Caden shoved and he rolled off her, still tugging at the knife, which he pulled free. He was still on her leg and Caden tried to yank it free as Vaughan bled. His eyes found hers, not scared, not lost, but sharp and angry still, even as he lost so much blood that he must surely be dying. His cold gaze locked onto hers as she tried to pull her leg free, and with his final moments he slammed the knife into her hip. Caden screamed and screamed and was still screaming when the door opened.


	3. Can't Cheat Death

**Can't Cheat Death**

_I spilled blood in the water, then let the storm roll in_

Caden's hip was in agony and her nose dripped blood as she was dragged by two guards into the city of Denerim. She barely saw it as she was brought to the pillory outside the goal and deposited; leaning against the wood pole she felt chains clamp around her hands, leashing her to the stake. She was in too much pain to care, too exhausted to do anything else but lean against the stake and shut her eyes. She'd done it. Taken down the monster who haunted her friends' nights, killed the spectre. He couldn't hurt anyone again.

Caden heard mutters and calls and opened her eyes a slit to see humans gathering to look at the latest criminal to face the humiliation of the stocks. She caught sight of a pair of elves who exchanged words and hurried towards the Alienage. Her hip was crying out for aid; the guards had hastily stuck a bandage around her side, and another on the thigh of the same leg where an earlier fight had wounded her, but it had been a rushed job. All things considered she had gotten off rather lightly in terms of injuries. She almost smiled at that.

She was outside the walls of the Alienage. It struck her suddenly as a remarkable thought. She rarely ventured outside those walls, being still considered a child, and so unable to seek employment in the city. Caden's ventures beyond the walls were restricted to being kidnapped and then remaining outside as a criminal. What an illustrious career she was having as an adult. She glanced down at the gold band gleaming on her ring finger. They weren't married and they never would be now, but Caden knew she was an adult. After what she'd been through in a few hours, she'd been catapulted into that milestone. She had just taken a different path than had been expected.

Time moved strangely for her on the stocks. It was still daylight, probably afternoon. The sun was bright as would befit the weather for Summerday and it shone down upon her in her blood-soaked gown. She probably looked a dreadful fright and indeed some mothers dragged their curious children past her with lightning speed. Caden just stood and rested as her skin burned and she waited. At least her state of dress probably helped keep the shems away; none of them were quite brave enough to approach her or throw anything and she was glad for that. Small mercies.

It wasn't until the first glimmers of dusk started to cross the sky that she heard footsteps approaching her. Caden opened her eyes from a semi doze and blearily looked up as the captain of the guard walked up to her. As he drew closer, she realised that hahren Valendrian was with him. And behind him was the Grey Warden. She didn't have the wherewithal to ask any questions, and besides there was dried blood all over her mouth and jaw and she wasn't ready to face that taste when she started speaking. The smell was bad enough, the coppery tang camped out in her nose as it was.

She realised they were speaking amongst each other and she strained to focus on their words.

"…killed the Arls only son and heir. That's murder and bad enough, but the Arl will not be happy when he returns from Ostagar." The captain was saying.

"The girl was only defending herself," Valendrian replied in a measured voice. "I do not wish to speak ill of the dead, but…"

"Yes, we all know what he was like," the captain agreed in a low tone. Then he sighed. "I'd grant you that defence for his death, but there were five other guards dead in the estate, plus the cook was assaulted. Those can't be chalked up to self-defence, not if she tracked through the estate to find him." The captain caught Caden's eye and shook his head sorrowfully. "I don't see how she can avoid the executioner's axe."

Caden dropped her gaze to the ground. That was that, as clear as day. She had signed her own death warrant.

Then a new voice spoke up.

"There is one other option." Caden peered up at the Grey Warden who was speaking now. "I could conscript her into the Grey Wardens. That is what I came here to do, to see if we could find any notable candidates."

"You want this scrawny elf for your Wardens?" the captain asked jerking his thumb at the slumped form of Caden. She wanted to feel insulted, but she couldn't argue with his assessment.

"Moral implications aside, she held her own against men twice her size and did not fall." Duncan assessed. "I don't condone murder, naturally, but you can't deny her abilities."

"You would take her?" Valendrian asked, not sounding at all surprised. It struck Caden then that this might have been a staged idea before they had approached the captain. "Save her from herself and put her to work for the good of the nation?" Oh yeah, that sounded planned for sure. Caden couldn't form her features into anything mirthful, but she locked this conversation away for later.

"I would." Duncan said. "I have the paperwork right here, if you would just sign your copy…"

The guard captain was no fool and he let out a sharp bark of laughter as he bent and signed his name on both forms, shaking his head in defeat. Then Duncan scrolled both sheets of parchment up and handed one to the captain, tucking the other into a scroll case at his belt. He gestured to the captain, who shook his head again and fished for the right keys to unlock Caden's manacles. A click, and they fell away.

Just like that she was free.

Except not quite _free_, Caden thought standing on shaky feet and looking to the Warden and her hahren. She was leaving one cage for another; she didn't know much about the Grey Wardens, but conscription felt very final. They'd signed her over to this man, how was this any different to what Vaughan had proposed to her as an alternative to death? Presumably her virtue could remain intact, but other than that…

Caden opened her mouth, eyes struggling to focus now that she was fully upright on her own two, tired feet. "I need to see my father."

"Sorry," the captain said brusquely. "I can't have that. If you're taking her, you're doing it now."

"But—" Caden started, as Valendrian coaxed: "Let the girl say her goodbyes first."

But the captain was firm. "I _can't_. You've got to take her out of Denerim right away. Once word gets out that the Arls son was murdered by an elf, do you really think she'll be safe? There'll be a lynch mob assembled within moments and I need to keep the peace here. I can't have her trotting all over the city while she gets herself ready. It's too risky and, worst case scenario: your Alienage could be purged."

A shiver ran down her back. Purged? Had she really brought her home that close to being decimated?

"But—" Caden tried again, speaking through her fears, her eyes imploring Valendrian to fight for her. He looked back at her and she could see he agreed.

"I will tell your father what has happened." He said kindly. "Maker be with you, child."

"My things." Caden said abruptly. "They're at my house, can't I just—"

"Come, young one." Duncan said. "We must be off lest you draw a crowd."

Caden turned mournful eyes on him. She wanted to fight. Wanted to storm off to the Alienage, outrun these men and grab her things, say her farewells. She hadn't eaten for so long, had worn herself out on adrenaline and bloodlust and so with one step she crumpled, caught by the man who now held papers of what felt very much like ownership. Caden let out a pathetic cry of frustration before the exhaustion finally beat her into sleep.

When she woke up, she was being gently rocked, her back pressed against a warm body. It startled her awake; she gave a shriek and almost slipped off what she now realised was a horse. Large arms encircled her holding the reins and did not let her fall. "What…?"

"Awake I see." She felt the rumble in his throat and chest as he spoke in that deep, soothing voice. Caden twisted and looked up into the bearded face of Duncan, his features shadowed in the gloom. She could smell the sweat on his chest where she had been resting against him.

"Put me down!" She said, at once. This felt uncomfortably close to being held down by Vaughan, the same sense of being too small, too weak to do anything about it. "_Please_," She hated the whine that crept into her tone.

To her surprise Duncan leaned back slightly, easing his mount to a halt and let Caden slip from the horses back. Her legs gave way as soon as she landed—it was higher than she'd expected—and she crashed backwards onto her hip, which protested angrily at the sudden pressure. She bit back most of the shout, but she hissed through her teeth at the pain. Duncan dismounted gracefully and patted his horse on the neck. "We need to make camp at any rate. I rode us further into the night than I had intended, but I thought it might be a shock if you woke in a stranger's tent."

Caden looked up at him, the moon bathing his face in a silvery glow. "Yeah, probably." She retorted, in too much pain to drum up much sarcasm. Duncan nodded affably. That irritated her, and Caden rolled onto her knees slowly, feeling her wound ache with every motion.

Duncan turned back to the beast and started unbuckling the straps to loosen the tent and blankets. "For tonight I will erect the tent and begin the fire. But tomorrow I expect you to do this yourself, so pay attention."

Caden felt around for a pithy response, but her hip was making it hard to think so she pulled herself into a somewhat comfortable sitting position and watched as Duncan first constructed a small fire by digging a shallow bowl in the dirt, lining the rim with stones and finally building the small pyramid with kindling underneath and wood on top. Within a short while the fire was crackling away, shedding better light on the ground where Duncan was putting together a relatively small canvas dwelling. Caden tried to pay attention completely, but he moved so fast and the light wasn't that great, so it was hard to follow and she found herself becoming distracted. Her hip was still twinging and when she looked down, she realised she was still wearing her wedding dress, albeit underneath a travelling cloak. The sight of the dark, dried blood in the firelight was nauseating, but her stomach was too empty to protest anything more than a few dry heaves. She desperately needed a distraction, but Duncan had finished assembling the tent and had come to sit by the fire, rootling through his pack for rations. He laid out bread, some soft cheese wrapped in leaves and an apple each.

"Hardly fine dining, but it will do." He said. Duncan looked up at Caden, who was turning the stiff fabric over in her hands. "I have some spare clothes if you would rather change. Nothing fancy, just a tunic and breeches."

Caden threw him a sceptical look. "I don't think your stuff would fit me."

Duncan chuckled, spreading the cheese onto his slice of bread. "You are probably right, but these were collected from your home before I came to find you at the pillory."

Caden's eyes widened in shock. "That hardly makes them spare, then. If they are _my_ clothes." She crossly got to her feet. "Where?"

Duncan gestured to the saddle he had removed from the horse, who was grazing nearby. Caden eyed the beast warily. It was big and looked heavy, and those hooves could probably deliver a painful kick. But the saddle looked far enough away that Caden felt she could safely approach it. She went to it and crouched by the bags, fishing through a sack he had not yet opened to find not only her clothes, but also a stack of letters, tied with ribbon and her three small books. Looking at the letters gave her a strange swooping feeling in her belly. Guilt sat heavily inside her when she thought of Nelaros, how he came to her Alienage and died within the day, slain by shems when he had tried to save her. The books at least were comforting and she cradled them to her, breathing in the scent of leather. Then another thought struck her and she stood and whirled around, startling the horse and causing her hip wound to flare up again. "Where is my knife?"

Duncan looked at her for a long while. "I presume you mean the tool with which you killed Vaughan Kendells?"

"He stabbed me with it," she countered, ignoring his description. "Right here, right before he died. Where is it?"

"What do you remember?"

Caden placed her palm over the throbbing ache on her hip. "He stabbed me. I screamed. The guards came and took it out, and bandaged me and I fought them and one of them threw a punch." Her hand crept up to her nose. "Then I was tied up and you came. Where is my knife?" The urgency had left her voice leaving only a desperate sadness behind. "I need it."

Duncan took another bite of his meal and chewed it, watching her. Caden stood, clothes in one hand, books and letters in the other. When Duncan finally swallowed, he said: "I suspect they took it out and tossed it aside. Chances are it's still lying in Vaughans bedchambers. Alternatively, a guard pocketed it." He looked to the fire and popped the last morsel of bread and cheese in his mouth. "Either way, it's gone."

Caden stared across the firelight to him. Gone? Her knife—_her mother's knife_—lost in the estate of her abductor. It seemed like cruel punchline to a joke that she was the butt of. She clenched her fists around her things, holding back an scream of rage she could feel building in her throat. It wasn't fair. None of it was fair, not being dragged from her wedding at the whims of a shem, not having to turn to killing to make her friends lives safe, not being condemned to death nor being torn away from everything she'd known to join an order she barely understood, with no agreement from her. And not knowing where her knife was, that was the kicker. She turned and went inside the tent, where she couldn't stand up so had to shimmy out of the ruined dress and contort herself into her clothes. Neither her hip nor her thigh were happy about being twisted into her breeches, but she pushed through the sharp pains and got herself dressed, balling up the dress—her mother's dress, oh, Andraste, she was ruining every tangible memory she had of her mother—and sat for a moment. After drawing several long breaths, she decided she was too mad to calm down. Spoiling for a fight, she shoved back out of the tent.

"You can keep that bag," Duncan said when she re-emerged. The wind knocked out of her sails, she frowned. "That one, where your things were being kept. You can have that bag."

"I… alright." Caden said, deliberately not saying thank you. She went to it and shoved her dress down into the bag and then piled the books and letters on top. At least her mothers' boots were still fine, even while missing the knife for the hidden sheath. She could still feel anger coursing through her, even if Duncan had made some kind strides with her. He had brought her clothes and books and food, but he only had to do that because he'd stolen her. Cadens eyes narrowed and she turned, not leaving her pack. "You know this is akin to kidnap?" She glanced up, ensuring that he had heard her. He just watched her over the crackling logs. "That Right of Conscription thing? I take it you have to use it often?"

Duncan just watched her. It was infuriating. No-one was that placid. "Does it make you feel powerful to swoop in and force people to join your army?" She wished she was bigger, that her voice could carry further. She wished she could stand up and tower over him. Maybe he'd take her aggression more seriously then.

Finally, Duncan shifted in his seat and calmly responded: "Actually we find many people who wish to join up, but due to extenuating circumstances we are forced to use the Right in order to convince _others_ to let them leave."

Caden felt her interest piqued. She moved closer to the fire, sitting down on the ground so that she could better see and hear the Warden.

"Like what?" she asked in spite of herself.

"If we conscript a mage, usually." Duncan explained, taking a sip from his water skin. "Often the Templars do not wish to release them into someone else's responsibility. I have also had to use it in Orzammar should a casteless dwarf be in the employ of one unwilling to part with them." He gave her a sideways glance. "The last Warden I conscripted was training to be a Templar. I almost had to use the Right, but the Revered Mother acquiesced eventually, allowing me to take him."

"Oh." Caden said quietly. She had never heard of Orzammer and she knew that mages existed, but she didn't recognise the word Templars. Despite her assertion that she was a fully-fledged adult in the big wide world now, she began to think she was more like a baby adult. With a lot more to learn.

"Eat something." Duncan said, nodding to her untouched rations. "You'll feel better."

Caden did as instructed as her belly was starting to growl. She couldn't work out this strange human. He seemed utterly impassive and hard to read, but then she had previously only known humans who were very much open about their wants and desires. Either Chantry sisters who preached the stories of the Maker and Andraste, or men who wanted one specific thing. She found herself wanting to continue this conversation as she ate. "Do you often find recruits at Alienages?" she asked after a moment.

"Not often, I have to say." Duncan said regretfully. "Those we recruit need to already be trained in fighting, in discipline. They need to be strong and clever and we only take the best. Sadly, as you know elves are not often trained in the art of fighting and they tend to be malnourished and weak. Of course, there are always exceptions to be made." He added with a pointed look at Caden. "We sometimes find the Dalish to be more what we seek, yet on the whole they tend to be reluctant to leave their clans."

"Wait, the Dalish really exist? You've met them?" Caden asked, momentarily forgetting her earlier question.

"Oh yes," Duncan said with a chuckle. "There are more camps than you might imagine, but they are a secretive people and difficult to track down."

Caden thought about this as she chewed her bread and cast her mind back to the days when she had first heard of the Dalish. She had been a small girl and overheard some of the elders talking about a group of boys who had left to find the Dalish. She had asked her mother about them and been regaled with stories of tribes of elves who lived free from humans and whom the humans feared, instead of the other way around. It was around that time that Adaia had begun to teach Caden the art of fighting.

Caden sighed at this memory. If Duncan heard her, he declined to push for an explanation.

"Now then," he said instead. "I'll take the first watch so you can get some sleep."

"But I slept on the horse." Caden protested. "I'm not tired, so I'll stay up." She shrugged. "Honestly, you go ahead."

Duncan nodded. "Very well. I will get some shut eye." He gestured to the moon and then moved his pointed finger to a new spot. "When the moon reaches that part of the sky, wake me and we'll swap."

Caden nodded. She watched him disappear into the tent and then she was alone with the horse. Her mind wandered to the notion of fleeing, but she quickly shut it down. She couldn't ride, she couldn't even saddle or climb aboard the damn beast and even then, where would she go? She was in entirely unfamiliar territory and they weren't even on a road that she could follow. Instead Caden concentrated on the fire, making sure it didn't die down as the chill picked up. She wrapped a cloak around herself and watched the heavens. There were so many stars scattered above her. Caden felt very small and lost beneath the tapestry of night sky.

The next morning after Caden had been roused at dawn by Duncan and helped pack up the camp, she was dismayed to realise she would have to travel on the horse again with Duncan. There was no way around it, she knew, but she couldn't help but argue against the close quarters of their ride. Eventually Duncan told her plainly that even cutting through the land as they were it would take at least five days to reach Ostagar and so any arguments delaying their return would mean more riding together. Caden gritted her teeth and climbed up behind Duncan. As she clutched at his travelling clothes and the horse began to move, she asked: "What's at Ostagar?"


	4. Vagabond

**Vagabond**

_Tell me where to go from here, so I can rewrite all my wrongs_

The sun rose as it always did over the worn battlements of Ostagar and the new morning began again with not enough breakfast cheese. This was the thought that came to the Junior Warden as he sat down at the table in the Grey Warden mess tent and looked gloomily down at his plate. It was never the same when Duncan was away. Warden-Commander Duncan that was. It wasn't a good idea to be too familiar with the leader of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, but of course he _was_ close with Duncan and that was part of the reason Alistair found himself dining alone. Surrounded by his fellow Wardens naturally, but lonely even so. He was the most junior recruit, only six months in, and while it had been a great honour to be allowed to join, he had not quite expected a war so soon, let alone a possible, honest-to-Maker Blight. He'd barely gotten used to the Grey Warden compound in Denerim before they'd been decamped to Ostagar to await the darkspawn horde.

That was why Duncan was travelling; the Grey Wardens of Ferelden stood at twenty-three strong, which was the highest number in two decades after being allowed back into the country by the former monarch. He had not been the only one to venture forth for recruitment efforts, but he was the only one still in the field. Senior Warden Robert had returned from the North with a knight from Highever who had won a grand tournament. Alistair sighed as he took a sip of his drink. Duncan would not be pleased; Ser Jory had a wife and child on the way, which would usually discount him from Duncans recruitment. He favoured those not in relationships, those who didn't have responsibilities and lives to leave behind. Still, Alistair had watched Ser Jory and sparred with him for the past few days and couldn't deny that the man had skill. Wardens Leland and Harris had returned empty handed, the former having been forced to leave Orzammar early after some ruckus involving the three children of King Endrin Aeducan, the latter having been unable to track the Dalish from their last know encampment. There was a time limit for how long they could be away and although Duncan was cutting it fine, Alistair had faith in his mentor. Not only would he have found a Warden-Recruit, but the recruit would be the finest of the small batch.

After breakfast Alistair headed to the training area. The Grey Wardens section of the total camp was large given their number, a direct side effect of the adoration the current king had for the order. He associated the order with glory and valour, which was very nice, but did mean the king often descended into their ranks to watch them train. He wasn't present when Alistair picked up his training sword and shield and began to warm up with one of the straw dummies.

A short while later Ser Jory arrived at the training area and Alistair nodded him over. It was his job to take recruits under his wing, even if said recruits only numbered that one. Jory favoured a two-handed weapon, so once he'd gotten his muscles warmed up, he stepped over to Alistair with his great sword and the two began to gently spar.

It was good, Alistair felt, to spar against someone with a different skill set to him. Kept things a bit looser and more interesting. The majority of his compatriots were sword and shield men like himself, at least as far as their warrior class went. Additionally, they also counted a handful of archers amongst their numbers, along with their two mages. Jory stood out alone as the wielder of a great weapon.

Alistair brought up his shield to meet Jorys downward swing, then responded with a swipe to his side that struck. Jory grimaced—the weapons were blunt, but could still lead to a bruise or two—and stepped back to give himself more room to build up another hit. That was the thing about great weapons, Alistair mused as he dove to the side. They packed a hefty punch and could be fatal if they hit the right way, but even for a heavily armoured warrior such as himself, there was usually time enough to dodge or block. Alistair had always felt like that, big and obvious, just like the build up to a great sword hit, but ironically did not favour those himself. When Jory tried something clever, a thrust to Alistairs legs, he was only just able to leap over the sword and bash his shield against Jorys chest, staggering him nicely. That was his preference: the shield was protection, but also made a pretty good offensive weapon if need be. Jory stumbled to his knees and Alistair brought his training sword to his throat. He'd won that bout.

The sound of clapping reached his ears, and he turned slowly, certain it wouldn't be for him, not Duncans Favourite. No, applause for him usually came from him dropping something or tripping over his boots in public. Alistair looked up and his heart sank as he spotted the clapping watcher, the gold-plated armour a dead giveaway. Keeping his face as neutral as possible, he nodded to King Cailan as thanks for his assessment. The skin on the back of his neck prickled uncomfortably as he turned back to the fray, taking on Jory for a second time. This time he was distracted by the watchful gaze of his king and made a sloppy mistake, allowing Jory to hammer him with the flat of his blade. Alistair let out an "oof" as the wind blew out of him and faltered to the side. Jory, to his credit, was most apologetic at the force he'd used and helped the Junior Warden to his feet. Alistair couldn't help a glance back to where the king was now standing with the Teryn of Gwaren and was saying something to the dour man, whilst still watching Alistair. His discomfort intensified.

Turning away from the figures, Alistair shook himself and readied himself for another bout of sparring with Jory.

"The last time I went to your Alienage I almost recruited your mother," Duncan said as they came back to a walk, following a frankly terrifying canter along a smooth stretch of fields. Caden, who had been clinging to him for dear life, relaxed her grip in surprise.

"What?" She asked. "When." This was brand new information.

"A long time ago, before you were born," Duncan explained, scratching the horse's neck with affection. "I had heard tell that there was a troublemaker in the Alienage who was a menace to every human who entered. Of course, this was told to me by humans, so naturally they would say that and so I took it with a pinch of salt. I still wanted to follow the rumours and they proved rather true when I met Adaia; she greeted me with a level of contempt and aggression the like I've rarely seen since." He chuckled at the memory.

Caden waited, but when no more of the story was forthcoming, she had to ask: "So, why didn't you recruit her?"

"Valendrian convinced me not to." Duncan said. "Apparently Adaia was being courted by a handsome young elf by the name of Cyrion and Valendrian believed my taking Adaia away would cause needless misery in both younglings. As we were not in any dire need of Wardens I let them be, and I am glad I did. Grey Wardens have a hard life separated from their families with no true home and I am so happy to see that Adaia found love with your father and that they were blessed with you."

"My mother taught me everything I know about fighting." Caden said thoughtfully. "And she told me stories about the Wardens, but she never said she was nearly one of them."

"I thought that must have been where you learned it." Duncan said. "I was saddened to hear of her death."

Caden bit her lip for a moment. She wasn't sure why, but she opened her mouth and said: "There was a sickness. In the Alienage. Fever and pain. We both got sick, when I was twelve. I got better, but she died. Quite quickly. I was asleep because of my fever and she was asleep with me and then I woke up and… she was gone."

Duncan didn't add anything to that, which was probably just as well as Cadens eyes were getting hot and scratchy at this memory. They crested a hill and pressed on until the horse picked up his head, ears forward and alert. Caden gripped Duncan tightly; she didn't like it when the horse did things like this. She much preferred the thought that the beast would just do as Duncan commanded, without any autonomy of its own. Duncan spoke softly to him. "Whoa boy, what can you see?" Duncan brought him to a stop and peered around. The horse let out a high-pitched whinny that almost made Caden leap off his back in fright, but then there came an answering call. Duncan nudged the horse into a trot and followed the hill around.

"Ho there!" Caden heard Duncan call out. She held on firmly and tried to peer around him. There was a young man on the outskirts of the forest they were travelling alongside. He had dark hair and three horses. That was all she could perceive. Duncan brought the horse closer. "Those are some fine steeds you have there."

The man looked shifty enough that even Caden could spot it from her terrible vantage point. "Yes, I've, er, just bought these horses and I'm transporting them home."

Duncan stopped his mount. "Really? Interesting crest on the saddle cloths."

The man stole a glance to the horses. He was standing on the ground which was the only reason Caden guessed for why he wasn't fleeing over the next set of hills. He looked nervous enough for a sudden flight. While the man considered his response Caden quickly took in the crest Duncan had alluded to. The saddle cloths on the three steeds were all dark blue, with embroidered golden symbols in the corner. She didn't recognise whatever it was supposed to be, of course, just one more failure in her education, but Duncan clearly did. With a glance to the shifty man Caden could see he didn't recognise the crests either.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to turn my nose up at horses and their tack." The man said after a pause. "No matter what the art work is."

Duncan dropped his reins and in a smooth motion swung his leg over the horses neck, sliding down from the saddle without disrupting Caden much; she had been holding him after all, but she quickly let go when she realised he was dismounting. Now she was sat just behind the saddle on an uncontrolled horse, so she quickly got off before the horse got any ideas about bolting. Apparently, the extent of his ideas was to lower his head to the ground and munch on the grass.

Duncan strode casually over to the man, who stood up tall, though his eyes were wide. Duncan viewed the horses up close, giving the nearest one a pat. "These horses don't belong to you, young man." Duncan said firmly. "Do they?"

"No—I bought them…"

"Son, don't try to fool me." Duncan interrupted. "They bear the Cousland crest on their tack and they are clearly warhorses. Now I can only imagine two reasons for how they came to be in your keep. Either you assaulted or murdered their riders to claim them as your own, or you came across them along with their deceased riders. So, which is it?"

Caden watched this exchange silently, but she could feel the tension coming off the young man holding the three sets of reins.

"The… the second one." He said finally. He put all three reins in the same hand and dug into his pocket, pulling out some papers. "I'm not a total arsehole, I swear. Here are the rider's identifications."

Duncan looked over the parchment, nodding to himself. "I know these men, or rather I know their commander. Thank you for these, I will make sure they get to Fergus Cousland so he knows what happened to his men." Caden watched as Duncan added these notes to the scroll case where her own papers sat. "In fact, you can help me do it. These horses do not belong to you, so I need to return them to Ostagar where they can be assigned to other soldiers."

"But—"

"And despite the riders being no longer on this mortal plain, you are a horse thief, Master…?"

"Daveth." The man said grudgingly.

"Daveth." Duncan nodded. "There is a war on and every man and woman should know better than to hoard fine beasts such as these rather than handing them back to king and country. I will have you ride with us to Ostagar, not two days hence. And you can help me track down Fergus Cousland to tell him what you know of the manner in which his men died."

"Why should I do any of that?" Daveth asked, practically pouting. Caden rolled her eyes.

"Because there is a war on," Duncan said again. "A Blight in fact and we need every resource we can and that includes Warden-Recruits."

Daveths eyes went very round as his mouth dropped open in shock. "You… you're Grey Wardens?" Finally, his gaze flickered to Cadens and she caught his confusion at her presence. "Truly?"

"Truly." Duncan nodded, smiling. "I take it you've heard of us."

"Oh… oh yes, sir, I have," Daveth said eagerly. Caden snorted at how quickly he'd turned to fawning. "I would be honoured to join the Wardens. It's true then? There is a Blight?"

"Yes, it's true." Duncan save gravely. Then he turned back to Caden. "Caden, come and meet your fellow recruit. And now you can have your own horse as well!"

Caden trudged gloomily closer. Two of the horses were very tall, the third a delicately slender beast, which pranced as it stood, while the other two ate from the grass like Duncans horse. She didn't want to ride with Duncan anymore, but she didn't really want to ride by herself either. She didn't want to ride at all.

"Daveth, this is Caden." Duncan introduced them. Daveth nodded to her, while she just stared back, arms folded. At least this shem was marginally closer in build to her, though he was still taller. "I recruited Caden from Denerim."

"That's where I hail from." Daveth said. "We could have been neighbours."

"No." Caden replied curtly. Daveth's brows quirked and he glanced back at Duncan who was back to being totally unreadable.

"Do you have a preference for your ride, Daveth?" Duncan asked. Daveth turned and looked over the horses.

"I'm rather taken with the big chestnut fellow." He said, running a hand along his neck. Duncan nodded.

"Very well. Now Caden which of the remaining two would you prefer?"

Caden sighed and stared at the horses. She had no idea. "I don't know. The white one is smaller." She shrugged. "I don't fancy falling off that other one."

"Ah, but this grey mare is built for speed and agility." Duncan said, taking the reins of the smaller horse from Daveth. "See how she can't keep still? She won't want to hold back and she'll give you trouble. Now this gentleman here," He took the reins of the last horse, the one that was the colour of mud apart from his legs, muzzle, mane and tail which were black. The horse ambled closer to Duncan, sniffing his arm. "He might be bigger and thereby seem off-putting to you, but often you'll find the bigger they are, the kinder they are as well. This horse will look after you."

He held out the reins to Caden and she took them mutely. It felt like she had just failed a test and she couldn't help but begrudge the fact that if Duncan had had a plan in mind, he really oughtn't have asked her opinion. Not if he was going to ignore it because he knew best. The horse stuck his nose into her elbow and Caden froze, while he sniffed. Tentatively she raised her other hand and pressed it to the large forehead, brushing aside the forelock and finding a small white splodge of fur underneath. The horse gently nuzzled her side. He was big, but he felt soft and warm. "Alright, fine." She muttered to the beast. "Just behave for me, please?" The horse raised his head and snorted hot breath on her neck.

"Would you like a boost?" Daveth was asking. Caden turned and glared.

"What?"

"Onto his back." Daveth gestured. "Or can you get on from the ground?"

Caden looked at the horse. There was no way she was getting her foot into the stirrup and then the rest of her onto his back. She took a deep breath. "Fine."

Daveth came up beside her and laced his hands together. With her heart hammering unpleasantly, Caden stepped into his hands and let him help guide her up so she could mount the damn horse. It was truly very high on his back, but he seemed unperturbed by his new rider. Caden felt Daveth nudge her thigh and she moved it back, looking down with cutting words on her tongue, but she realised before she could speak that he was tightening the horse's girth and then adjusting the stirrups for her. The horse's previous rider certainly had had longer legs. Caden flushed as Daveth busied himself and tried to ignore him. The men both mounted their steeds, with Duncan holding the reins of the grey mare and they began to ride.

Caden gripped the saddle with her knees and hoped Duncans assessment of the horse was accurate. She could see the grey mare throwing her head around a little bit as she walked alongside his horse, so she had to admit he was probably right with that one. She looked over to Daveth, who was riding beside Duncan and apparently giving him his life story, peppered with questions about the Wardens. She couldn't quite believe how quickly he'd signed up to the order. It seemed worlds away from her conscription in lieu of death.

The horse beneath her walked steadily and sure and she found that after a while she became used to the rhythm of his hoofbeats. It was far more comfortable in the saddle, instead of perched behind it and behind Duncan. While they walked slowly and her horse kept up the gentle pace, she could handle this. She didn't join in the conversation while they rode and when it came time to make camp, she found herself giving her mount some extra thanks before building the fire for them. That night they had shorter watches as there were now three of them, and thanks to the still intact pack on Daveths horse, they had two tents instead of one. Duncan was in good spirits as they ate their carrot and potato stew and happily took the first watch so the recruits could retire to their tents for the night.


	5. Come As You Are

**Come As You Are**

_Take your time, hurry up, the choice is yours, don't be late_

By the time they reached the fortress and the war camp on the edge of the Korkari Wilds, Caden had reached a comfortable alliance with her steed. True to Duncans word he had been gentle with her tentative guiding and easy enough to hang on to when they tried a few faster gaits. His trot was bouncy and unpleasant, but his canter was surprisingly easy to sit to, given how long his strides were. Even so she had been glad that they mostly walked at a quick pace in order to reach Ostagar.

Caden looked around as they passed by the palisades surrounding the crumbling fortress. The soldiers on patrol all nodded to Duncan, aware of who he was. In between these palisades and the outer walls were battalions of tents with soldiers milling about. Different factions were denoted by their brightly coloured banners that flapped in the breeze. To get into the war camp proper they would have to cross a bridge into the fortress, but first Duncan explained that they needed to find the master of horses and hand over their steeds. Caden just followed the two men through the tents until they came to the makeshift stabling and handed over their beasts. Duncan's was his own and would be stabled with the other Grey Warden horses, whereas the three Daveth had acquired were to be returned to the Cousland section. Duncan exchanged some words with the master and learned that Fergus Cousland was out of camp on a mission, but they would see that his horses were returned to his men when they reached camp again upon completion of their task.

Duncan lead his new recruits across the bridge into the camp, where Caden could spy more bright canvas through holes and gaps in the old walls. It was a very surreal experience and once she was off the horse she was back to feeling very small. Like a young child trailing behind her father instead of an adult who was being recruited into a fighting faction. It was disarming to be surrounded by so many humans in armour, though as they walked, she spotted a small group of what she could only imagine were dwarves. Daveth followed her gaze and had no qualms about asking Duncan to confirm that they were in fact dwarves. It was easy for him, Caden thought bitterly, he would fit in here with no problem. He could have no issue asking questions that she felt would mark her out as stupid. She was running to catch up, literally in fact, as they marched across the bridge. Duncan nodded to Daveths questions.

"They are surface dwarves," he responded as he walked. "Orzammar have not responded to calls for aid, but then they are only ever called upon when things are terribly dire. They are the frontline defence of darkspawn usually, being the gate keepers to the Deep Roads." Caden wished Daveth would ask more about them as it sounded interesting, but he got distracted by the sight of a duo of soldiers transporting a fallen comrade on a stretcher.

"How exactly is the fighting going?" he asked, an edge of concern creeping into his tone.

"The kings forces have faced a few skirmishes and won every single one thus far," Duncan replied easily. "We have yet to see the bulk of the darkspawn army, but this is the best place to face them. Which is one reason why all of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden are currently within these walls, ready for you to join them."

Caden was looking back at the dwarves when one raised a hand in greeting. She responded in kind, and found herself suddenly walking into the back of Daveth. She coloured at once and leapt back, annoyed at herself for making herself look a fool. Daveth just smiled at her, then turned his head to the reason the men had stopped in their tracks.

"Duncan!" a golden-haired man in golden armour was greeting the Grey Warden warmly. "It is good to see you again, my friend."

"King Cailan," Duncan replied, placing his right fist against his chest and bowing. Daveth hurried to copy him, but Caden was entranced by the wolf face depicted on the front of the kings chest to think on her feet.

A tall, lithe figure at the kings side tutted and as Caden looked at him he sneered down at her. "Bow before your king, elf." He demanded officiously.

Caden blinked and looked back at the golden man who was beaming at her. "It's fine, really, I keep telling Duncan not to be so formal all the time. We're going to face the enemy on the battlefield together after all, we're not hosting a tea party in this old place!"

Caden frowned. He was a very strange human, especially for the man who was in charge of the country. She glanced warily at Duncan, unsure whether she ought to say something in response.

"Your majesty, this is Daveth Jones and Caden Tabris." Duncan introduced them.

"Well met, both of you." Kind Cailan smiled at them in turn. "I look forward to heading into battle with you both and the rest of the Wardens."

"They have to pass the Joining first, your majesty." Duncan reminded him, but the king waved a hand dismissively.

"I'm sure they will." Cailan said. "Duncan only ever recruits the best of the best."

Caden looked down at herself, sweaty and dirty from travelling for five days, her skinny limbs weary from getting used to riding. She didn't exactly feel like the best. She realised she'd not listened when the king phrased a question to her, and she looked up. "Sorry what?"

The tall man tutted again, louder and more pointedly. Cailan just smiled encouragingly. "Duncan said you hail from Denerim, from the Alienage there? Never had the chance to grace the place myself—my advisors seemed to think it unsafe—ridiculous notion! How are things there of late?"

Caden opened her mouth and tried to say something polite, but the tiredness seized her tongue and she blurted out: "Arl Kendalls son kidnapped me and my friend so I killed him before he could rape us." She froze when she realised what she'd said, clamping her mouth shut with force. There was a stunned silence all around. Daveth even took a step back. The king's advisor beside him looked shocked, and King Cailan turned to Duncan for clarification.

"It's true, my liege," Duncan stepped in for the second time since Caden had been introduced to him. "The elves of Denerim have long lived under the cruelty of the Arls son. I have been advised that this sort of behaviour is sadly uncommon. Caden here was moments from being married when Vaughan descended on the wedding party to steal the women away." Caden nodded silently avoiding everyone's gazes. She felt very awkward and foolish.

The kings face set into a determined gaze and he actually placed a hand on Cadens shoulder. She forced herself not to flinch at the touch of his hand. "I swear you now that as soon as we are finished here, I will return to Denerim and set this right. I won't have citizens of my city being treated in such a way, whether they live within the walls of an Alienage or outside of it."

Caden couldn't speak for a moment. "I… thank you, your majesty," she said, finally bowing her head to him in gratitude of this promise. She couldn't help the niggle of pessimism that suggested that this would be forgotten about in the aftermath of the war, but for now it was something to have the king himself seem to care.

Cailan nodded in response then turned back to Duncan. "I'm afraid I'm expected back at my tent for yet another lecture by Loghain about tactics. No doubt he'll have gone over my latest plans and be waiting with a list as long as my arm of all its faults." Cailan rolled his eyes in a decidedly unroyal manner. "I've fought three battles with these blasted darkspawn and won _every_ time. I know what I'm doing."

"Have reinforcements arrived yet? Redcliffe for instance?" Duncan wanted to know.

"Oh, Eamon is standing by, waiting for my summons, but it's not necessary." Cailan laughed. "He just wants in on the glory, and why wouldn't he: fighting alongside the Grey Wardens like in legends of old? I for one can't wait. All we need now is for the Archdemon to appear to cement this as a true Blight." He winked at Caden who grimaced instinctively at the overly familiar demeanour. Cailan didn't notice. "Between you and me I'm not convinced this is a real Blight at all. Anyway, I'll see you soon, Duncan. Glad you're back." The king turned and headed off, trailed by his advisors. The tall one looked back at Caden over his shoulder with a dark look and she had to fight the urge to respond with a rude gesture at him as he went.

Duncan gestured for the two recruits to follow him and headed further into camp. Daveth shot a look at Caden, but she turned her head, unwilling to meet his curious gaze. They weren't friends and she wasn't interested in giving him any part of her life story. That he had heard about the most controversial moment was merely an annoying happenstance. He would get nothing more from her, she resolved. Caden just wanted to know what to do next and stretching her legs, which were stiff from riding, was welcomed. She hoped they could complete a circuit or two of the camp to loosen her muscles and then perhaps food and bed would be nice. Daveth gave up trying to catch her eye and sped up to walk alongside Duncan. "So, the king seems confident."

"Indeed, he does." Duncan replied.

"So, is it a real Blight?" Daveth asked after a pause. "Like in the stories?"

"King Cailan is correct in that we've not yet seen the Archdemon," Duncan said in a measured tone. "However, I don't believe we've seen anywhere near the extent of the darkspawn forces. With the speed at which the darkspawn are building their numbers, I feel certain there is an Archdemon behind this, just waiting to show up… I can't spur the king into action on a feeling, though."

Caden barely heard them talk. She was getting tired, much more tired than she had felt even an hour earlier. She started to fall back, stopped rushing to keep pace with the men who were deep in conversation. A flash of purple caught her eye and she turned her head to the right, spying more tents through the walls, but this was accompanied by literal flashes of purple. Curious, Caden broke off from her fellows and started to follow the bursts of gleaming colour. Her tired feet stumbled over the aged stones as she drew up to find a loose circle of robed figures surrounded another, who appeared to be in some sort of trance. The circled folk were waving their hands and murmuring recitations quietly as purple light swirled around the group, almost obscuring the centred figure.

With a start, Caden spotted pointed ears on one of the robed people and she pressed towards them, heedless of the strange magic that was occurring for a moment. "Whoa there!" came a gentle, but firm order as an armoured chest with a large sword motif moved to stand before her. The order didn't sound angry, but it was hard to tell for sure as Caden looked up into the helmet that hid the persons face entirely. "We have a mage in the Fade here. They mustn't be disturbed."

Caden didn't know what that meant, but she nodded dumbly and turned around. With a few steps she realised she had lost sight of Duncan and Daveth entirely. Damn.

She peered around, pushing up on her tiptoes to try to see if she could spot the men, but it was all in vain. They'd moved on and she'd completely lost her sense of direction. She searched her brain for the smallest titbit of information about the Grey Wardens section of the camp, to find that she'd either totally ignored Duncan or had refused to keep hold of the details. Well, that's what she got for zoning out on the chatter of the men, she berated herself.

"Are you lost, dear?" Came a voice. Caden spun around, already soothed by the maternal tones, the words a soothing balm on her scattered and tired mind. She found the woman who'd spoken. She was standing on the outside of the mages section, her back against the wall. She wore long faded red and orange robes and she was smoking a long pipe as she surveyed Caden. "You certainly look lost. Can I help at all?"

There was nothing accusatory in her voice, nothing which suggested Caden ought not to be there, in spite of the woman repeating the fact that she looked to be misplaced. Even as a small part of Caden wanted to rile against that assertion, she found the woman's tone too gentle for someone picking a fight. Perhaps this human woman did care that she was over her head and really did want to help. Wouldn't that be something? Caden took a few steps closer.

"Actually I am." She admitted. "I've only just arrived at Ostagar and I've lost my bearings already."

"It can be overwhelming," the woman agreed, taking a long puff from her pipe. "Is this your first time seeing battle?"

"I..." Caden hesitated. She had almost forgotten the being-at-war part of being there. King Cailan had spoken of the Grey Wardens being on the front line with him. Surely that didn't include someone as green as her? "I guess so."

The woman smiled sympathetically. "You get used to it very quickly. I'm an old hand; a battle mage from the Circle at Kinloch Hold." Caden nodded, but most of those words went straight over her head. The one she did pick up on was mage; so this woman was a magic user after all. It made sense, what with her wearing similar robes to the figures from before, not to mention that she was enjoying her sweet-smelling smoke just on the edge of the mages section. "The name's Wynne."

Caden offered a tired smile. "Caden."

Wynne returned the smile and took another puff. Caden watched her mesmerised as she blew perfectly formed rings into the air that dissipated the higher up they floated.

"You look dead on your feet, Caden." Wynne remarked gently. "Where is it you are headed?"

Caden blinked slowly. "Er... the Grey Warden tents."

Wynne looked impressed. "Ah, a new recruit I take it? Congratulations, I presume you arrived here with Duncan? He is a man not easily impressed, so you have already conquered a tough hurdle. Good luck to you with the rest of your trials before your Joining." Wynne tapped the pipe bowl against her palm. "The Grey Warden tents are not far from the centre of camp, just off side from the royal encampment. Head down that way," she gestured with the long pipe. "then bear right and up the ramp and you should see it. The Grey Warden colours, as I'm sure you know, are blue and silver and their banners should let you know you're in the right place. And look for the crest, the silver griffon." Wynne stepped back and dropped her arm. "You can't miss them, but if you do the royal tents are golden yellow, with a dog sigil. They'll be very close to the Wardens." Wynne ran her gaze over Caden once more, denarrowing her sharp eyes. "Can you make it?"

Caden nodded assertively. "Yes, I'm fine. Just tired. Thank you for your help." She turned away, leaving Wynne to her pipe.

Walking away from the mage, Caden followed the directions she had been given. She walked by a dais on which a Lay Sister was praying over some kneeling soldiers, the Chant of Light melodic in the late afternoon air. She walked by a demonstration on general was giving to some infantrymen as he stood beside a dead darkspawn. So that's what they look like, she thought as her feet came to a stop, rooted to the ground by the twisted sight before her. Caden wasn't sure what she'd had in mind for these creatures, but it looked a wretched thing, rigid in death, its mouth open in a rictus snarl, skin grey and sallow. She suppressed a shudder and walked on, heading for the ramp Wynne had said would be around here.

As she turned, she heard a shout. "You there, elf!" Caden froze at the words. "Yeah, you. Where have you been? I've been waiting for my order for the past hour! I ought to box your damned ears."

Caden turned to see a burly man striding over to her. The feelings of fear and humiliation felt for many years in the Alienage caused by humans like this one came flooding back. With it came the fury and indignation she had always been taught to suppress. The soldiers around them hushed as they looked over at the commotion. Caden fixed cold eyes on the man who was nearly twice her height. Her tiredness fled as the anger surged in her, no longer held at bay. "How dare you speak to me like that." She snapped, angrily. "Do you address every one of these soldiers in such a way or is this treatment reserved for your servants?"

The man stopped mid-stride and his face paled. He held up his hands in a gesture of forgiveness. "Oh, my apologies!" he said quickly. "You aren't who I thought you were… I must have been mistaken."

"Yes, you must have." She snarled, not willing to forgive this error, thrilled by the fact that she was able to assert herself for once and to have this human apologise. "I would suggest you remember this the next time you speak to an elf with such disdain."

"I will," he muttered hurriedly, before backing away. Caden bit back a smirk. She felt oddly more victorious then than she had done back at the palace in Denerim. The smirk died as the images from that night a week ago flooded back into her mind and she shuddered instead. She gritted her teeth: best not to think about it.

"I think you made him cry," one of the soldiers watching said. "Look, there he goes, off to hide his manly tears."

Caden glared at the man making a joke out of her moment of victory. "Who asked you?" She spat.

The soldier held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "No-one, clearly. Just giving my humble opinion."

"I don't want it," she muttered, the fatigue creeping back in.

"Nobody ever wants it," he said matter of factly. "My opinion is like this Blight; relentless, ever growing and of course, unwelcome!" He didn't seem remotely perturbed by Cadens frown or the fact that she was trying to ignore him. Without making an attempt at politely ending the unwanted conversation, Caden spun on her heel and walked away, heading up the ramp. After a few moments she heard footsteps behind and she looked back over her shoulder as she walked. The soldier looked serene as he came up alongside her.

"Are you following me?" Caden asked with a scowl.

"Hmm, me?" the soldier asked, startling as if he'd forgotten she was there. "No, I guess we're just going the same way."

"I doubt that very much," Caden bit back. The soldier smiled anyway.

"Well, we're both going in this direction, so I guess we are going the same way." The soldier responded evenly, before letting a gentle ribbing tone into his voice. "It's so nice to walk in the company of friends, don't you think?"

As he drew closer, Caden couldn't help but shrink away, lest his swinging arms brush against her. Her fingers itched to reach for her knife, but of course it wasn't there, she remembered with a jolt. "Can you back off?"

The soldier finally looked like he was hearing her discomfort. The easy smile slid from his face and was replaced by a look of confusion. "I'm sorry, what am I doing wrong?"

Caden didn't know how to answer that. It was too overwhelming, being surrounded by all this aged ruin dotted about with splashes of dyed canvas, this place that was built by humans for humans so everywhere was so big and imposing, and then of course it was mostly populated by humans, who were big and wide and broad. Caden had so far been thrust into uncomfortable conversation with who else but the king of Ferelden, gotten lost and now was being shadowed by this man who loomed over her. It was all just too much. She turned and caught sight of the blue and silver crest and stalked towards it hurriedly. She had no idea what a griffon was but the colours reminded her of Duncans clothes so that was good enough for her.

As if thinking of him summoned the man, Caden spotted the Warden Commander walk out of a tent and made a beeline for him. She pointedly ignored the soldier who had annoyed her so much, but out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of him coming up alongside her again as she stopped before Duncan, who smiled.

"Ah, Caden, you found us." He didn't seem cross that she'd gotten waylaid; he just sounded happy to see her. Then his eyes moved from Caden to the soldier and he nodded a greeting. "And you found Alistair as well. That's good." Behind Duncan, Daveth and a man with red hair she didn't recognise walked over to her and stood beside her, facing the Warden Commander as the soldier took his place next to Duncan. "Alistair, this is Daveth and you already know Ser Jory. Recruits, this is our Junior Warden Alistair. He'll be in charge of your mission tomorrow in preparation for your Joining."

Caden bit back a groan and slowly raised her eyes to look upon the smiling face of the soldier Duncan had introduced as Alistair. Junior Warden and the man in charge of taking them someone tomorrow. She felt her heart sink at how rudely she'd spoken to him, even as a fire in her belly reminded her of how obnoxious he had been. She would have to temper those flames by tomorrow. Alistair was still smiling as Duncan spoke to him about how he'd come to recruit Daveth. Caden watched him closely. He would have to stop being so damn cheerful if she was to manage that. Alistair caught her looking and grinned at her, his face beaming so brightly it made her eyes hurt. He would be hard work, she could tell.


	6. Far From Home

**Far From Home**

_I feel like I might fade into the dawn_

"We need to get _what_ for the Joining?" Jory face was a picture of shock and horror. It was almost funny enough to provoke a laugh from Caden, if her mouth hadn't been full at the time. She was sat beside Alistair with Daveth and Jory opposite them at the end of one of the tables in the Wardens mess tent and on her plate was the largest pile of food she had ever seen. When Alistair had directed them to the cook, she had taken a few minutes for it to sink in that she could actually have multiple slices of pork, carved from the roasting pig, with fresh buttered bread _and_ potatoes, and an apple and an orange from Antiva. It was all for her. She couldn't quite believe it and was eating everything one handed, while her other arm seemingly casually hugged the plate on the table. She was prepared to use her fork to stab anyone who came too close to her food.

Alistair set his drink back down. "Darkspawn blood." He repeated. "It's a vital component for the Joining." Jory did not look placated.

"But... what is it used for?" He wanted to know. His food lay untouched on his own plate. Caden swallowed and replaced her mouthful with a bite of perfectly moist, smoked pork and almost swooned. She chased it with a bite of her apple while Jory waited for his answer. Alistair considered it for a moment, mulling his words over in his head.

"That's Duncans remit, really." He said after a moment. "He'll go into it later. All you need to know for now, is that this is a test of your mettle. It'll be the first time you're facing down the darkspawn. If you can't handle this part, maybe you want to reassess whether the Wardens is for you."

Caden didn't let go of her plate as she snorted. "Oh, so if I take one look at a darkspawn thing and piss my pants, I get to go home?" Alistair looked torn between consternation and amusement.

"Well, we might let you change your breeches first," he joked, but Caden didn't laugh.

"I guess Duncan didn't tell you, but I was conscripted from a death sentence." She said coolly. "I didn't really have a choice about joining up or not and I doubt I'll get to decide for myself if I want to do this. Or not." She tore into her bread, the slightly salted butter melting on her tongue and calming her ire. Alistair nodded slowly, understanding.

"Ah, I see." he said.

Jory seemed to have forgotten his earlier questions as he openly stared at Caden. Daveth failed to hide a smirk as he looked back and forth between them, seemingly now pleased that he was already privy to this information.

"I was led to believe that joining the Grey Wardens was a great honour," the red headed man spluttered. "I had no idea I would be rubbing shoulders with convicts."

Caden rolled her eyes and tossed back the rest of her drink. "Trust me, you won't be getting anywhere near my shoulders." She muttered.

"It _is_ an honour," Alistair insisted. "The Grey Wardens have a long and noble history. We've quelled four Blights thus far and we're preparing to stop a fifth. However, the fact remains that what we do is so vital and so specific that we never turn our noses up at anyone who wishes to apply or," he nodded to Caden, "those who might need a fresh start within our Order."

Caden scoffed, starting to peel her orange and pointedly ignoring him. This exotic fruit was a rare treat back home, only sometimes gracing the table during the Satinalia feast, and even that feast was nothing compared to this meal. Caden dropped the peel on her plate, empty bar her fork and the apple core.

Daveth grinned and leaned back in his chair, dropping one arm across the back and crossing one leg over his other knee, the picture of relaxation. "I was picked up stealing horses." he said gleefully. "Duncan gave me the choice of joining or getting arrested. You can guess which I chose."

Jory gritted his teeth. "So, I am to understand that I am surrounded by criminals?" He glared across the table at Alistair. "And what have you done? Jewel thief? Lyrium smuggler? Laid with a Teryns daughter?"

Caden was watching Alistair and so caught his immediate flush when Jory brought up carnal activities so accusatorily. She remembered Duncans story about the last person he had recruited before her, how he'd almost had to use the Right of Conscription on the trainee Templar. "No, you were a Chantry boy." she said, keeping her intel to herself. She popped a segment of orange in her mouth as Alistair turned to her bewildered. "You can tell by the way he's blushing. Look, his ears are all red."

If anything, Alistair reddened further at this attention. Caden felt a thrill of vindication for feeling stupid earlier when he'd trailed her back to Duncan without telling her why. She could be sneaky, too. Buoyed by Alistairs sudden muteness, she looked back at Jory, not ready to play nicely just yet. "What about you? Did you write letters to Duncan, begging to join this fancy group of religious folk and lawbreakers?"

Jory bristled, but drew himself up high in his seat. "Not exactly. I won a grand tourney back home and impressed the Warden who had come to observe us knights. I was the most decorated participant this year, breaking a record that had been held for almost nine years." He looked so proud of himself that it made Cadens teeth itch.

"Sounds like you had a lot going for you back there." Caden observed. "I'm not sure I buy it; no-one joins something like this, during a war, sorry a Blight, unless they're running from something."

"That's not true," Alistair began, but Jory spoke over him.

"Perhaps _you_ were running, girl," he snapped. "_I_ am doing my duty by King and Country."

"Yeah, if this is a Blight, then there's nothing to be gained from waiting it out at home." Daveth said, suddenly serious. "Someone's got to stand up to the darkspawn." Caden frowned at him. That was unexpected; she hadn't planned for back up from the horse thief, but she had thought they were on the same page. She recalled how excited Daveth had been when he had learned that Duncan was a Warden. She supposed he was part of the Grey Warden appreciation group after all.

"And when this is all over, I shall return home, back to Highever." That name leapt out at her, causing an unpleasant jolt of guilt in her stomach as she thought of Nelaros. The sight of him expiring in a pool of blood flashed before her eyes and she blinked it away. Not now.

Jory was still harping on. "Back to my lands, back to my wife and my child who will have been born while I am here, fighting for their future." Jory finished, looking so righteous and important that it made Caden feel sick to look at him. She shoved away her plate. "And what about you? What about your husband? Is he proud of you?" There was an edge to his questions that took the shine off his seemingly polite phrasing.

Caden clapped her right hand over her left, hiding the band of gold too late. "That's none of your business," she hissed through her teeth. She stood up from the table, grabbing her wooden plate and cup. Her blood was itching to fight, infused by adrenaline all at once. "Sounds like you've just told me what you're running from. A real man would stay home and care for his pregnant wife and incoming babe. A real man wouldn't travel the length of the country to hide from his responsibilities."

"How dare-?"

But Caden was determined to have the last word. She turned away before he could finish and headed to the cooks station, where behind him sat a heavy wide barrel filled with soapy water. She dumped her things into it without seeing.

"Thank you, my lady." She looked up, startled that anyone was there to see a young elf washing the dishes with a rag and setting them out to dry. Caden swallowed around the large lump that had formed in her throat. The elf smiled warmly at her, but Caden couldn't speak. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, all the rich food she'd shovelled in would make a violent reappearance. She just jerked her head at the elf and then took her sense of shame away with her, towards the sleeping tents. She pushed through the canvas into the interior of the much smaller women's tent, wishing there were solid walls to hide the eruption of noise that was desperate to come out. She stomped over to a bunk and grabbed a pillow, pressing it to her face and screaming long and loud, into the feathery lump, hoping it would dampen the noise enough that no-one would come running. Then she slumped over onto the bunk, holding the pillow like a child would hold a doll, curling her body around it. She had no idea if this bunk belonged to anyone, but she would be damned if anyone were going to move her. She needed a moment to process everything.

She thought it would have sunk in during the long days of travel from the capitol to the camp, but if anything she felt more lost here. More afraid of just how big the world was that she had never seen before. Caden had already decided she didn't like her fellow Wardens, at least not any that she had yet met. She didn't like being plucked from her home, even if it were a home she had spoiled. She didn't like being in this desolate place; no matter how bright the banners were, it was grey and crumbling. She hated it. The smell was damp and pungent, so different to the smells of the city. She didn't like the men she had to work with. And she didn't like knowing that she was part of an order that employed elves as servants. She felt very out of place; all she'd seen were human Wardens. Where were the elves? Where were the other women? They had a women's tent with four bunks, but did that mean anything or was it just erected on the off chance a woman would wander up and volunteer to join?

As if she had summoned her, the tent flap pushed aside, casting a glow over Caden, with the sun set pouring into the tent. Caden squinted and pushed herself up, not prepared to look so childish to a stranger.

"Oh my goodness, you're _her_!" The voice was perky and eager and Caden hated it at once. The figure dropped the tent flap, banishing the fierce final rays of sun and then went over to the lamp hanging from the highest point in the middle of the rectangular tent. With a fumble, the lamp was lit, swaying slightly as it was released, making the shadows dance lazily. Now Caden could clearly see the figure who'd intruded on her solitude.

A human woman stood in the tent. She had curly brown hair that was tied back into a low ponytail, and inquisitive blue eyes. Caden remained where she sat, her legs curled underneath her, placing the pillow back on the bunk. "Er... is this your...?"

The woman shook her head quickly. "Oh no, I've been using this bunk." She sat herself down opposite Caden as if to demonstrate that this was indeed her bunk, and pulled off her boots. The woman was dressed in Warden colours, but a casual variation of the armour. No straps or plates here, just a long robe of blue and silver with a griffon on the left breast.

"Are you a mage?" Caden asked, surprisingly herself with the question.

"No, I'm not," the woman replied. "My name is Lyra. I'm the Warden Archivist for Ferelden." She held up a stack of parchment and a quill. It didn't help; Caden had no idea what that meant. "I record the account of what we're doing. I keep the records." Seeing Cadens confusion, she held the parchment out for Caden to take. After a moment Caden did as expected. "See? That's my account of what occurred today." Caden glanced over the words, the smart cursive writing looked very fancy, but wasn't easy to read after the basic print of the books she owned. Caden nodded blankly. "Then I send the writings off to Weisshaupt for the Senior Archivist to record in the books there." Lyra smiled toothily. "Today I wrote about you. Well and the other recruits. You've all finally arrived and the Warden-Commander is back, so it's a big day. Of course, tomorrow is a bigger day really, for you I mean. That's when you're Joining is scheduled for. Are you excited?"

Caden kept her eyes down on the parchment, hoping Lyra would get distracted by something and forget what she'd asked Caden. She seemed like a very over exuberant person, not unlike Alistair. What were they feeding these Wardens and would Caden start to demonstrate this kind of annoying behaviour? Her mind flashed back to the plate sinking beneath the water and the elf thanking her. No, she would never be like the other Wardens.

Lyra, to her credit, seemed to realise she was coming on too strong so she stood, leaving the parchment with Caden. Caden sensed her movement and realised she was shrugging out of her robe, into her undergarments and she flushed, turning her head so she couldn't even see Lyra out of the corner of her eye. She thought of how she'd teased Alistair before about his reaction to being asked about sex and wanted to kick herself. How was she any different; a full-grown woman blushing at partial nudity nearby that had nothing to do with her. After her mother died, Shianni became the only person who ever saw Caden in anything but her outer garments. What was this stranger doing, disrobing in front of her? Didn't she have any shame?

Lyra placed her things in a trunk at the end of her raised bedroll and sat back down with a book in her hands, but she didn't look at the book. Caden risked raising her head and caught the woman gazing at her with sympathy in her eyes. "I know it can seem overwhelming at first. Joining the Wardens can be intimidating, I do understand. When I joined up it was five years ago and I sought them out. Duncan's told me about your conscription; I know it wasn't your choice to join. That must be tough." She left the conversation open, but Caden did not oblige by joining in. Lyra tried a different track. "I bet you miss your home, but you get used to it. The Wardens... we're more like a family than a regiment. Oh, sure, we fight side by side in battle, but it's more than that. We're brothers and sisters. Well, actually I was the only sister for a while, at least in Ferelden. There are loads of warden-sisters in Orlais and at Weisshaupt. My predecessor, she was promoted, which is why she left to go to Weisshaupt. That was a year ago, so that's how long I've been keeping records."

Cadens held out the parchment to Lyra, hoping she would take it. She did, so Caden pulled back onto the bunk, drawing her knees up under her chin. She didn't want to talk to this chatty woman, but the question slipped out anyway. "Don't you fight?"

"Me?" Lyra asked. Caden resisted a monumental eye roll. Who else would she be talking about? "Oh yes, I do. We all do. I'm an archer, specifically. I don't tend to get into the fray much, but I can pick off the darkspawn before they get too close. I rarely miss."

Caden looked up. There was a note of steely pride in Lyras voice that warmed her to the human. "Archery?" she asked. Lyra nodded. "That's impressive."

"Duncan says you're completely untrained in warfare, but you can fight." Lyra said and Caden couldn't find anything condescending in her tone. She nodded. "That's good. You have the basics and we can teach you the rest. What do you favour?"

Caden was sure Duncan would have told her, given that this woman was responsible for collating all the facts about the Wardens, but she took the bait. "Knives or daggers." She answered, pushing away thoughts of her Mothers lonely knife back at Denerim. "I prefer to have a blade in each hand."

Lyra nodded approvingly. "Smart. Twice the offence and they work for defence if you need it. Good thinking."

Caden felt an odd feeling bloom in her chest at these words and it took her a moment or two to identify it as pride. She dropped her knees, sitting cross legged. "My mother taught me everything she knew. That was everything she knew."

"I can teach you some archery if you like?" Lyra said, suddenly serious. "Once you're done tomorrow and you're officially one of us I can give you lessons."

Caden bit her lip. She was tempted. It sounded like a great opportunity to learn a new skill, but the idea of being 'one of them', a warden-sister made her balk. She didn't _want_ to be one of them. She wanted to be back home. The two sides of her fought it out, the eagerness to learn to shoot arrows vs the desperate need to set herself apart from them. "Maybe." She said finally. Then, without another word, she lay down and rolled over, with her back to Lyra, pulling the rough blanket over her body. Lyra seemed to take this in her stride, but Caden didn't care. She heard Lyra say goodnight and then a rustle as she settled down to read for a bit. Caden could hear the noises of camp outside: voices, laughter, some shouts. Her head was buzzing; she felt certain she'd never shut out the sounds both inside and outside of her head. Her father and Shianni swam into view. She felt an ache in her heart for them both. Caden clenched her left fist, feeling the wedding ring press into her hand. Nelaros. She allowed guilt into her homesick heart and then in spite of everything that was going on, she didn't drift so much as dive into sleep.

The next morning Caden woke to the sound of Lyra getting ready. She'd had a bad night, waking regularly with a start at various noises permeating the canvas walls. At one point she'd had a nightmare about Vaughan, surfacing from the dream like a diver coming up for air, unable to catch her breath. That breathlessness had shaken her and she sat up, trying to remember how to properly inhale and exhale. Caden had almost fainted when she felt a hand on her back, until she realised it was only Lyra, roused by Cadens panic. She'd been too out of breath to speak, so had had to endure Lyras gentle back rub until she was back in control and was able to ask her to stop. Lyra hadn't spoken a word about it and had just gone back to sleep, but Caden hoped she wasn't about to try to start a conversation about it now. Or write it down in her damn notes.

Lyra smiled cheerily when she realised Caden was awake. "Better get ready or we'll miss breakfast. I'm starving!"

Caden watched her warily, but she didn't seem to be trying to talk to her. The last thing Caden wanted to do was remember the oppressive feeling of weight on her chest from the nightmare, how in the dream she'd been frozen beneath him as he grew heavier and smothered her completely. She shuddered and got up from the bed. She'd slept in her travelling clothes, which seemed rather grim now in the cold light of day. She hadn't even taken her boots off and so the bottom of her bunk was rather dirty. She grimaced; she couldn't change that now, but she did need to change her clothes. She supposed a wash would be too much to ask for as she grabbed her back that had been left at the end of the bunk and reached inside for any other clothes Duncan might have packed. All she could find was the wedding dress, stiff with blood.

Lyra spotted her dithering. "Do you need something to wear? I have spares; I'm sure they'll be a bit big, but we can figure something out."

Caden flinched and dropped her bag. "No, that's OK." She turned, eyeing the human as if daring her to force the issue. Who cared if she smelled, she wasn't here to impress anyone and maybe she'd get a wide berth from the others. Lyra just smiled.

"Fair enough. The offer stands if you change your mind." Caden wasn't sure how old Lyra was, but she seemed to have an unerring instinct of how to deal with a young, tetchy recruit. She would have guessed her to be in her late twenties, perhaps even thirty. "You'll be measured for armour today anyway. Ready?"

Caden nodded stiffly, following Lyra out of the tent and to the mess tent again. Caden tried to keep her eyes on Lyras back, but she couldn't hold back the glances towards the pot wash. It was unmanned in that moment and she was glad.

Alistair waved as she drew closer and Lyra left to go sit with other wardens. Caden eased herself onto a chair, casting her gaze across the table to the two empty seats. "Where are...?" She managed before trailing off. She didn't feel combative this morning. That dream had shaken her too much. She just felt weak.

"Daveth and Jory?" Alistair finished for her. She nodded. "They've already eaten. I believe Daveth is being fitted for armour and Jory is bathing. You can do both when you've had something to eat." He pushed a plate over to her, the smell of the spiced bread making her mouth water. "Sleep well? It must be a lot easier to get a decent kip in the women's tent with just the two of you."

Caden tugged the pro-offered plate a little closer and reached for the bread. It had currents baked into it and was still warm and the smell was divine. She spotted another plate beside Alistair that was empty. Had he waited for her with her food? She ripped a piece off and popped it in her mouth. Alistair picked up a jug and poured some milk into a cup. "Here, they go well together. Personally, I like to dip the bread in the milk, but I am told I am disgusting by some less enlightened folk around here." He smiled again, a warm, bright smile as if they were friends.

The bread seemed suddenly tough to swallow, so she took a long drink of the milk. It was different to what she was used to. "This tastes a little strange."

"Hmm?" Alistair pulled the jug over and sniffed. "Doesn't smell off. How is it different?"

Caden didn't really know, so she shrugged. Alistair poured himself a small cupful and drank it down. "Tastes normal. Maybe your palate is more refined than mine." He joked. "Someone told me the other day that the cows get stressed being corralled near a battlefield, as if they know what's coming. Maybe that's what you're tasting. Or more likely I was being gullible, I do that sometimes. Well… many times."

"Cows?"

"Yeah, you know, smaller than horses, bigger than dogs, but you can't ride them or you get told off as a young boy, even though you had it on good authority that it was fine to ride the cows." Alistair frowned, thoughtfully. "The start of my illustrious career of believing the most ridiculous things."

Caden looked down at her cup, seeing the milk a little differently now and ignoring Alistairs waffling. "We only have goats' milk back home."

"Ah, mystery solved!" Alistair beamed. "What have you got against cows though?"

Caden frowned. She didn't particularly feel strongly about cows and she puzzled for a moment until she understood what he meant. "Goats are more comfortable in the city." She said. "They're smaller. Don't need as much land. We keep them right there in the Alienage." The words tumbled out without thinking, giving much more information that she had intended. All that over a cup of milk. Alistair seemed pleased though and grinned as she started to eat again.

"Do you realise we've just managed a perfectly pleasant conversation?" Caden glanced down at her food. She hadn't meant to. He was still going on: "I guess all you needed was some decent sleep."

Caden looked up into his bright face as the nightmare image of Vaughan flashed before her eyes. What in Andrastes name was he talking about? Caden grabbed the rest of her loaf and stood up, turning away from the table. She caught Alistairs face as his easy-going expression slid into a frown before she started walking away. She heard him call her name behind her. "Leave me alone, Alistair."


	7. Be Where You Are

**Be Where You Are**

_Don't look for life in past or future, look right at it dead in the eye_

Caden stared daggers at the quartermaster. She said nothing, bit her tongue, but she stared at the man as if she had the power to melt the flesh off his bones. Alistair coughed awkwardly. "You seem to have made a mistake there," he said warily. "Caden is a Warden-Recruit and so needs a set of armour."

The quartermaster frowned, bushy eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. "I could have sworn she was the Teryns servant. Are you sure?" Caden noted that he wasn't asking her. Her rage ticked up a notch, but still she kept it quiet, swallowing the heat of her ire. She wanted armour that fit well and wasn't full of holes and speaking her mind at that moment, she felt, would only lead to getting the armour from the rubbish pile. Alistair shifted from one foot to the other, clearly desperately uncomfortable.

"I'm quite sure." he said finally. "If you would please just fit her for some armour so we can head out...?"

The quartermaster huffed. "Who am I to question the decisions of the Wardens, eh?" And he went inside his tent to rifle through his available armour.

Caden waited until he returned with some scale mail before saying: "Leather would suit me better."

Those bushy eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline, which was something as it was rather receding. He glanced at her in her tunic and breeches and nodded. "Fair enough. Mail might topple you over, I guess. Such a tiny thing. Maybe there's something in the back." And muttering he disappeared from sight again. Alistair threw a nervous smile Cadens way, but she wasn't in the mood to return it. She remained stony faced as the quartermaster returned with a set of small leather greaves and bracers for her legs and arms, and what looked like a tabbard made out of strips of leather woven into a lattice. "This can all go over your current clothes. Try it on and see how you move."

Caden smiled poisonously, an expression of utter disdain dressed up to appear polite and looked over the items. The quartermaster moved off to speak to a squire who had come to collect his master's sword, and left the Junior Warden and the Warden-Recruit alone. Alistair watched without speaking as Caden checked over each piece, stealing glances at Alistairs own armour as she did as she figured it out. First, she settled the greaves over her legs, fastening two buckles at the side over her boots. The greaves extended above her knees a little, but were secured to her shins, so she had the freedom to move unimpeded. So far, so good. Next, she set aside the bracers for last and found the buckles of the tabbards. The item fit over her head in one piece, then fastened at both sides, tying the front and the back together around her body. It was bulky and shapeless, but it would protect her from the front and back. Her neck was open as were parts at her side, so she knew she would have to remember that if there was fighting, which sounded unavoidable. She recalled how she had found similar exposed points in the metal armour of the guards in Vaughans estate. Wouldn't that be ironic, to be taken down in the same way out here? _No_, she resolved. She wouldn't give them the chance. Finally, she fitted the bracers over her forearms. Her upper arms were now also open to attack, but she didn't intend to let herself be injured. Once again, remembering her fights at the manor in Denerim; she was smaller and weaker, so she had to be faster. Had to be.

She looked up at Alistair, not wanting approval per se, but then again, he _was_ a more seasoned warrior, so she waited to see what he would say. He nodded at her armour. "Looks fine. You'll get better armour, properly fitted after the Joining, so just live long enough and you can get an upgrade." He smiled wryly to show he was joking. Then he reached over to her tabbard and took hold of one of the buckles. "This could be a little tighter-" he started, but Caden had flinched violently away as his hand brushed her. Alistairs ears went red and he held up both hands. "Sorry, sorry! I was just trying to help."

It was Cadens turn to flush pink under her armour. She had to get that under control, she knew that, but then again, he really needed to learn to tell her what he was doing. She told him as much. "You can't just grab people." She said, trying to remain calm. "Just... say what you're doing, before you do it, alright?"

Alistair nodded. "My apologies," he said sincerely. "I would suggest that could be a little tighter, if you want some help with that?"

Caden nodded, mutely and turned, raising her arm so Alistair could adjust the straps. She felt very hot having his hands so close, could feel the sweat breaking out under her already worn clothes. She really needed to bathe after their sojourn to the Wilds, and to change into a fresh set of clothing, if there were any to spare. Of course, she could always die out on the first mission and then the need for cleanliness and clothes would be null and void.

Once that was sorted, the quartermaster returned and upon request found her two belts to wear in a criss-cross fashion around her torso, so that she could have two short swords in scabbards either side of her. She wanted to ask about a knife so that her boots felt less empty, but she also wanted to be away from this man as soon as possible and although she spotted a knife sitting on a table unguarded, Alistair was hovering so she had to fight the urge to pilfer it.

Together Alistair and Caden walked away from the quartermaster to meet up with the others by the gates.

"I'm sorry about him," Alistair said after a few moments. "Some humans can be idiots about elves."

Caden sighed, but didn't speak. It was hardly anything new. Alistair went on: "You seemed remarkably calm with him. Even when he spoke to you like you were a servant."

"I'm planning to kill him later." Caden deadpanned. "I'll go back under cover of darkness and murder him in his sleep. It's just easier that way." She caught Alistairs face. "I'm joking. Mostly." She rolled her shoulders, feeling the armour shift on top of her clothes. "Let's just see how this armour does. Then I'll decide if he's worth keeping around."

Duncan was waiting at the gate with Daveth and Ser Jory. Caden found her eyes roaming the armour of her fellow Warden-Recruits, eyeing up the fit and quality. Jory had brought his own and it seemed to fit him well to her untrained eye. Daveths armour came from the same place and was similar in appearance to hers, but certainly seemed to fit him better than hers did. Caden bristled underneath it all; none of the armour seemed built for her kind, whether that was because of her female body or her elven stature. It was very frustrating. She tuned out her annoyance to focus on Duncan.

"…additionally, we have sourced a location of a cache that I would like you to find. Alistair has the location so please do your utmost to retrieve the treaties hidden away there."

"Of course, Duncan." Alistair said solemnly. Caden resisted the urge to fidget under her armour.

"Nevertheless, your primary focus is obtaining the blood from the darkspawn." Duncan went on. "Without it the Joining will be delayed and we want complete that this evening."

"What do you do when there isn't a Blight?" Caden asked bluntly. Daveth hid a smirk behind his hand. She ignored him; she wasn't sent here for his personal amusement. "How do you get the blood if darkspawn aren't running around the Wilds?"

Duncan looked to Alistair to answer this question. He cleared his throat first. "We go to the Deep Roads in Orzammar." Alistair said. Caden watched him intently; he'd spoken too freely the previous night and was clearly being more cautious now, with Duncans eyes upon him. "The darkspawn live underground so the dwarves are often the first line of defence against them breaking out so Warden-Recruits join the dwarves in holding them back and in doing so we can get blood."

"And the blood is for…?"

Duncan clapped his hands together. "It looks as though the gates are ready for you to pass through so the best of luck to you all. I will see you on your return for your Joining later."

The Wilds were wet and kind of smelly. That was Cadens first impressions upon leaving the grounds of Ostagar. This was the direction the Darkspawn were coming from, apparently, and so would be the best place to obtain the blood for the three new recruits. They each had a set of vials, lest any should break and Alistair was in the lead. Duncan had explained that Alistair, as a fully-fledged Grey Warden, would be able to sense the presence of any darkspawn and so prevent the small group from being taken by surprise. The thought was niggling at Cadens mind once she heard this, that the very secret reason for needing darkspawn blood might be something rather unpleasant. It didn't seem to bother Jory or Daveth, or at least if they were bothered by it, they weren't letting it show, so Caden kept her dark thoughts inside.

Alistair was much less jovial once they crossed into the Wilds, a focus lighting his eyes that Caden had previously not seen. It made his face suddenly a whole lot more interesting, to her at least. Watching him take something seriously was better than his attempts to get to know her or jolly them all along like children. That wasn't what she was there for. He led the way and had Jory behind, with Caden and Daveth either side of the knight. Daveth, Caden spotted, seemed to have the same weapons as she did, and she wondered if that was the only reason Alistair chose the arrangement that he did.

The sky was slightly overcast and the air held a chill as they traipsed over the damp ground. It seemed a far cry from the land she and Duncan had traversed in their journey from Denerim. There were tiny insects here, that seemed to delight in the taste of human flesh, with one or two taking a bite out of her elven skin and apparently deciding it wasn't as good. That they seemed to be mostly nibbling on Jory was as much to his dismay as it was to Cadens amusement, though she hid her glee as well as she could when he grumbled about the bugs.

The group had been walking for a while, long enough to have left behind the gates to Ostagar and had yet to find any darkspawn. Alistair stopped them by a lazy river that was snaking its way between the mounds of grass and reeds. "I'm getting a sense of darkspawn over that way," he said, gesturing away from the muddy path towards a wooded area. The trees had long bedraggled strands of moss hanging from the leaves, giving each tree a slightly stooped over appearance. Daveth swallowed audibly.

"In there?" He asked in a dry voice. "I don't like the look of that."

"I would prefer to stay in open ground," Jory quickly agreed. "It looks like the perfect place for an ambush."

"Not to mention the witches that could be lurking in there," Daveth muttered, his eyes darting around. Caden cocked her head to one side as she looked at the pale man.

"Witches?"

He nodded. "The Wilds are rife with witches and Chasind who follow them."

"Seriously?" Caden asked. This sounded like he was pulling her leg, but he had genuine fear in his eyes that gave her reason to question it. Daveth had turned back to eye up the way into the woods again and did not reply.

"I hear what you're saying, Ser Jory," Alistair started, notably not responding to Daveths woes, Caden realised. "But that is our best bet for finding the darkspawn and achieving our task."

The two recruits shared a worried look, so Caden stepped up alongside Alistair. "In there you say? Let's go." And she started for the woods. Within a few seconds Alistair was beside her and then the other two scrambled to catch up behind. Alistair shot Caden a grateful look, but she kept her head forward, scanning through gaps in the trees. In truth, she was not happy to be inside this darkened woodland. The canopy was thick and the light was dim. She hated to admit it, but it did seem like the kind of place people went into and never came back out from. She understood that Alistair had this special darkspawn sense, but in practise it sounded rather far-fetched. She would need to see it in action to fully trust it. Caden stole a look to Alistair as she struggled to keep pace with him. He had that focused look back, as he peered off through the woods. Was he feeling out the darkspawn at that moment? She wondered if he had a tell, and then wondered what it would feel like for her if she made it to the Joining. While she watched, she spotted Alistair look towards a new direction, almost like she had seen watching the rats in the streets of the Alienage; a sudden awareness of a presence, an instinctive reaction to potential danger. Caden turned her head to peer in the same direction as Alistair. Nothing. She looked back at Alistair who was holding up a hand to quieten the other two recruits, and waited. When he dropped to crouch, the others all followed suit without a moments hesitation.

"That way." Alistair said. "A small group, I think."

Caden looked. They were on a narrow pathway, but to follow Alistairs plan they would be walking through brush and thickets. Any attempts at being quiet would be pretty much impossible. "Are you sure?" Caden asked. "We won't be able to surprise them." Alistair nodded at her words and she chewed thoughtfully on her lip.

"They will be able to sense me, as I am able to sense them." Alistair said quietly. "It _is_ possible to surprise the darkspawn, especially as the presence of Grey Wardens will be faint."

"Will they run if they hear us or stand their ground?" Caden wondered out loud.

"If they call more we could be in a very precarious position." Jory added. Caden held back her grimace at them being on the same page, childishly irritated by his sensible suggestion. Alistair looked torn. It occurred to Caden that they were probably the first group of recruits he had taken to look for darkspawn. Presumably being in the Deep Roads meant lots of darkspawn to fight without having to hunt them down as they were doing. Looking at Alistair now with a critical eye, it was clear to see the slight tic of a muscle in his jaw. He was nervous. Caden took a deep breath. Their leader couldn't be seen to have doubts, especially with Jory worrying about ambushes and Daveth afraid of witches.

"What are you thinking, Alistair?" She asked evenly. He glanced at her and she offered a thin, but encouraging smile.

"I don't want us to get overwhelmed by darkspawn." Alistair said after a moment. "We need that blood, but reports have said that there are plenty of darkspawn groups in the wilds so let's keep going. We need to find the cache as well, which is this direction anyway."

"Sounds like a plan." Caden nodded, waiting until he rose to mimic his action.

Alistair began to walk, continuing the path through the woods with Caden walking alongside him. He tried to catch her eye again, but she kept her head forward. She hadn't thrown him a lifeline because she wanted to be his friend; it had merely been strategy. They couldn't afford for Alistair, the guy with the darkspawn sense, to worry himself into inaction. She'd acted out of necessity. That was all.

They walked in silence through the woods, the only sound coming from their steps on the detritus on the forest floor. There were few birds scattered about, with a few calls here and there, but no real song. It made the woods feel more eerie in the gloom. After a while they came to an edge and Alistair halted them, peering through the gaps in the trees. Caden focused where he was looking and caught a flash of movement. She glanced at Alistair. The anxiety was nowhere to be seen; he was ready now. Caden felt her heart speed up. That meant fighting. Her first fighting since Vaughans house, her second time fighting for her life. Against monstrous things that were hellbent on destroying her and everyone she loved. She quietly withdrew her swords, gripping the hilts tightly. She was ready. Hopefully.

Alistair nodded to the others, gesturing for the men to fan out, spacing each member of their small party out in a line opposite the treeline. Caden watched the others pull their weapons free and ready themselves. Alistair held up his hand and then they were charging forwards, bursting out of the woodland into the light. Caden winced at the sudden bright light, so bright due to the gloom of the tree canopy, but she quickly adjusted. Before them were a small group of what had to be darkspawn, two about Cadens height, three closer to the men. They seemed shocked by the sudden appearance of non-darkspawn fighters and Caden pressed forward, pushing the advantage of surprise, sinking her blades into the arm and side of the one closest to her. It howled and his foetid breath made her gag as the sorry creature expired before it could even think to draw a blade. Caden yanked her swords free and turned, eyeing up the next enemy. This one was ready, holding a sword, facing her. Caden had to jump back as it swung, much closer than she had anticipated and she let out a hiss of pain as it left her with a shallow cut on her bicep. Damn that armour. The darkspawn let out a roar at her, and in combination of pain, shock and anger, Caden hollered right back, her voice an irritated growl in comparison to the bellow from her sparring partner. It brought down its jagged blade and Caden parried with her good arm, catching the offending sword with hers and slicing with the free sword. She caught it on the thigh and it grunted. Before Caden could stab at it again, the darkspawn let go of the sword with one hand and suddenly Cadens face exploded in pain. She reeled backwards from the punch, already feeling the blood spurting from her nose, she hurried to parry again as the beast advanced on her, swinging wildly. Caden shook the stars from her eyes and feinted left, before darting right and jamming her sword into the darkspawns already injured leg. It yelped again and she brought the other sword down to pierce the skin at the back of its neck, cutting off the scream as she severed its voice with her blade.

Caden risked a glance at the others. Jory was wiping his sword clean, the body of a large darkspawn prone and bloody before him. She looked over to where another body lay, another downed enemy, with Daveth sitting up beside it, wiping blood from his eyes. He had a gash across his head. Finally, Cadens eyes alighted on Alistair as he swung his sword and sliced clean through his foes neck, sending the monsters head flying through the air. The headless body teetered and then crumpled to the ground in a shower of blood. Alistair looked up and locked eyes with Caden.

"Is that all of them?" Caden asked, her chest heaving with the exertion.

"Yes," Alistair nodded. "Let's collect the blood while we have a moment. Daveth, are you alright?" He reached a hand down to the man who clasped it and allowed himself to be helped to his feet.

"They're faster than they look." Daveth said with a shrug and a wry grin. He looked over to Caden, who had set down her swords and was fiddling with the awkward wax stopper of her vials. "Did you take two down?"

Caden didn't look up from her job. Her hands were shaking after that fight and she couldn't get the vial unstoppered. "I guess so." She mumbled. Finally, the waxed cork loosened and she immediately dropped it. Cursing under her breath she dove for the small stopper on the ground and retrieved it.

"That's impressive." Daveth said. Caden ignored him as she knelt beside her fallen foe and considered how to get the blood out of the darkspawn and into the tiny vial. After a moments consideration she held the vial at the opening she had made with her sword in the creatures' neck and pressed the vial to the blood that was still pouring forth. There was no way to avoid it getting on her hands, so she gritted her teeth and filled one vial after another.

"So, what exactly are these?" Daveth was asking as Caden worked. There was a nervous energy to his tone, making Caden feel glad that she wasn't the only one letting the tension get to her.

"These big fellows are hurlocks," Alistair said, then he crossed over to crouch beside the creature Caden was taking the blood from. Wordlessly she passed him a full vial. He took it and pressed the stopper over the top to close it, then waited for her to pass him the next one. "And these ones are genlocks."

After a short while Cadens vials were full and her hands were slick with blackish blood. She grimaced down at herself, but Alistair stood and offered her a hand like he had with Daveth. Without a second glance at his outstretched hand, Caden pushed herself up from the floor and got to her feet alone. Alistair didn't say anything as he pulled his hand back.

Caden dithered for a moment, then bent and wiped her hands on her thighs; smearing the blood over her breeches. She was filthy enough and sweating after the fight. What was a little more mess? Alistairs face appeared in her peripheral view, frowning. She opened her mouth to defend her decision to clean herself up on her clothes, but then she realised that he was looking with concern at her face. "How's your nose?" He asked.

Cadens fingers flew up to touch it, wincing at the sharp pain that elicited. "It's fine." She said bravely. She caught the barest hint of a smile on Alistairs face as he clearly didn't buy the lie.

"Very well," he said, reaching in pocket for a handkerchief. Caden took it and pressed it to the drying stream of blood surrounding her nostril.

"Thanks." She dabbed a few times until she was satisfied the bleeding had definitely stopped and withdrew the handkerchief. There was an embroidered crest on the fabric. She was getting used to seeing them everywhere, but while she had expected to find a griffon for the Wardens, instead there was a grey tower upon a hill. She'd stained the fabric with dirt and her blood, but it looked as though the thread used for the hill was itself red. It didn't look like the Templar heraldry. Was this something from his time before the Chantry? Caden was surprised to feel a small flicker of curiosity for Alistairs previous life. She quashed it quickly. She didn't need to know his business, just as he had no right to hers. Caden held out the handkerchief and Alistair took it back, stuffing it into his pocket again, apparently not minding that it was just as grimy as Caden was now.

"Do we have enough blood?" Jory asked. Caden and Alistair looked over to him and Daveth; both had managed to gather some vials, somehow managing to avoid the mess that had befallen Caden she noted grimly.

"I'll wager we do," Alistair replied. "Good work."

"But we still need to find that stuff for Duncan?" Caden offered. Alistair nodded.

"We do. Let's press on."

Following Alistairs directions they travelled across open marshland, battling with insects again rather than darkspawn.

They walked on, slowly trudging through the Wilds. Caden wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but it seemed as though her fellow recruits were fallen back a little. Certainly she found herself up alongside Alistairs while Ser Jory and Daveth ended up behind. She kept her gaze ahead, trying to avoid Alistair catching her eye. Her hair had mostly held fast in its tight knot atop her head, apart from a few wisps that had fallen around her face. As she walked, Caden brushed the strands back up into the knot, tucking them into the cord that held her hair in place. No doubt she was smearing black streaks along the yellow hair.

"What's that?" Jory asked. The others stopped and Caden looked up from her task, to follow the length of his extended arm to see what he was pointing at. They were coming up to a bridge which was adorned with spikes on which were skewered human skulls. She narrowed her eyes, her skin prickling with unease. Surrounding the bridge was thick hedgerows either side of the river. There was only one way forward.

"I don't like this," Alistair murmured. "I can feel something nearby..." He turned around, seeking out the incoming threat. Daveth and Jory readied their weapons, glancing around.

Caden slowly crept on light feet towards the bridge. Then she stopped.

"I can see traps—it's an ambush." She had barely finished the sentence when genlocks suddenly appeared as if out of thin air surrounding the troupe. Before any of them had time to breathe, they attacked.


	8. Morrigan

**Morrigan**

_She is death, she is life_

Caden barely had time to think before the first sword whistled through the air. She tried to evade it's slice as best she could, but they'd appeared so suddenly, as if by magic, that she couldn't get out of the way quite in time, and the point pierced her arm, drawing a line of red until it met her bracers and it was finally deflected. Caden couldn't help the cry of pain and she continued to back up, away from the advancing genlock until she bumped against someone's back. A lightning fast glance told her it was a friend, but there was nowhere left to go so she gritted her teeth and braced herself, crossing her twin blades before her as the genlock swung his blade downwards and caught it before it struck her. She grunted loudly as she did the first thing she could think off—she lifted one foot, planted it on the genlocks chest and kicked. It flew backwards, and Caden leapt forward, not giving an inch, ready to be the one in control of the fight having been on the backfoot at the start. As the beast landed, she stopped beside it and drove her blades into his chest. He gurgled as he expired, but Caden was already spinning around to take in the lay of the land. The three men were still surrounded but they had regained ground and she could see it was only a matter of time before they bested their opponents. She looked back to the bridge and caught sight of a larger darkspawn fiend, wielding a stave from which was pouring some foul looking smoke, and which was heading for Cadens companions. Her hackles instantly raised at the sight, so set off at a run, vaulting lightly over the first trap and landing beside the darkspawn. He noticed her and broke the first spell only to turn on her and began casting something new. She elbowed him in the mouth, thus cutting off his recitation, and then swung her blade. He instinctively held up his stave as a shield; her first blade bit into the wood and stuck fast, but she drove the other into his gut and twisted, ending his life in a strangled gasp. He clutched at her as he fell, his clawlike fingers grasping at the neck of her armour. Caden yanked her blade free and shoved him down, not interested in giving him any peace in death.

Caden felt rather than saw the three men run past her scaling the bridge. "Wait, there are traps!" she shouted trying to stop them. Alistair skidded to a halt at once, Daveth saw what she saw and leapt over the trap, but Jorys foot landed squarely on a pressure pad causing the trap to snap shut on his calf. He yelled in agony and dropped his sword, bringing more darkspawn running.

Alistair turned to Caden. "Get him free." He ordered as he and Daveth started to engage in battle. Caden didn't think to argue; she dropped to her knees beside Jory who was still screeching in pain. She laid down her weapons and clutched his leg above where the metal teeth were buried in his flesh.

"Try to hold still," she grunted as he reacted to the pain. His leg was quickly covered in blood and although she tried, Caden could not see his wound. Instead she dipped down lower to inspect the traps spring mechanisms. It was a crudely made thing with the basic concept of a pressure plate releasing the jaws to clamp into a leg, which it had done in this case. It was clamped very tightly onto Jorys calf, but there was a small sliver of space either side of his leg. Acting instinctively, she grabbed Jorys greatsword and slid it into the space, before twisting the weapon in order to prise the teeth apart. She struggled to shut out the noises Jory was making; moans and cries, with the odd word interspersed as he begged her to help him and get him out of his agony. The effort of forcing the teeth out of his leg made her break out into a fresh sweat and her arms shook, but inch by inch it was coming apart. She finally got the sword twisted so that the jaws were separated by the width of the blade, but it was not enough to free Jorys leg. Caden risked a glance to Daveth and Alistair.

"Alistair!" She called out as he felled the last genlock. He hurried over with Daveth in hot pursuit. "I need one of you to mirror what I have done on the other side. Once there is enough space, the other must pull Ser Jory free." Jory gave a long moan as Daveth followed her orders, sliding his own blade into the now wider gap on the other side of Jorys leg. He was faster than Caden and as he forced a greater gap, she was able to move her blade further down to create a gap wide enough that all of the teeth were out of Jorys leg. "Now!" she cried.

Alistair grabbed Jory under his armpits and hauled him upwards and away. They both toppled over onto their backs—Alistair somewhat cushioning Jory who gave a loud howl as he fell. Caden and Daveth both pulled their blades away from the trap, that sprung closed again with a violent snap and then lay still.

Caden quickly moved over to where Alistair and Jory lay prone, and touched Jorys leg. "We need to get your armour off here." She instructed. Jory rolled off Alistair who wriggled out from underneath, while Daveth stood watch over them all, his eyes scouring the distance. Caden quickly began to work loose the buckles on Jorys greaves, but they were slick with blood and her shaking fingers were prone to slipping. It took a good few minutes before she could slide the damaged metal off his leg. After few moments of cursing under her breath, Daveth was beside her with a knife in hand; he cut away the leather and then the padded cotton between Jorys flesh and his armour. He cut it away just below the knee and tore it off, discarding it to one side. His skin was bright red where the teeth had punctured him and was bleeding heavily. The teeth of the trap had all been different sizes of small spikes, clearly hastily manufactured and so some wounds were less dire than others. Alistair handed Caden a wad of cotton which she pressed to the bite marks to staunch the blood flow, lifting his leg as she did so.

"I have bandages here in my pack." Alistair said, passing Caden the aforementioned items. She took them without a word, so focussed was she on the task at hand. When the blood slowed Alistair passed her some wet cloth that he had dampened with his water skin. Caden bathed the wounds quickly, and then wrapped bandages tightly around the leg. Finally, the poultice was complete. Jory had even ceased his crying, but his face looked pale and sickly.

Caden stood up and retrieved her swords from Daveth who had collected them for her.

Alistair stood also. "Can you stand?" he asked Jory.

"I will try." Jory replied, taking Alistairs outstretched hand and pulling himself up. He cried out again when he tried to put weight on the leg and the bandages became dotted with blood after a few attempts. Caden sighed. "You can't carry on with that leg." She said bluntly. "You can't stand without support, let alone walk and so you'll only slow us down."

Ser Jory looked as though he wanted to argue, but could not find the words. He looked down at the ground.

"Well, we have enough darkspawn blood," Alistair said ruefully. "I suppose we can return to camp and someone else can retrieve the treaties."

Disappointment rushed through Caden. She was to fail one of the first tasks set to her as a potential Grey Warden? What in Andrastes Grace was the point of her being dragged away from the only life she had ever known, only to fall at the first hurdle in her new life? It was not her fault that Ser Jory was injured. _She_ had seen the traps and _she_ had shouted a warning—a warning he had not heeded quickly enough. Not her fault.

"No," she said firmly. Three pairs of eyes stared at her in confusion. "Daveth, you can take Ser Jory back to camp. It is a simple path due south east, and explain to Duncan what has occurred. Here," she handed him her containers of blood. "Take these vials back with you. Alistair and I will carry on as I am too short to support Ser Jory back and Alistair can sense the darkspawn. Between the two of us we can avoid any more confrontations and find the treaties we were tasked to retrieve."

All three men looked at her, the elf standing up and taking charge. Caden kept her face firm, though she realised how it must appear. She was a Warden-recruit after all, no different from Daveth or Ser Jory, and yet she was the one telling them all what to do. Would they heed her words, that was the question.

The cry of an animal split the air, causing Daveth to look around the wilds with wide eyes, his mouth drawn into a grimace. Looking back to Caden, he nodded and reached for the vials, slipping them into a pouch on his belt, where they joined his own collection of blood, clinking gently as they settled in.

Alistair sighed heavily. "Caden's right." He said, though it didn't appear to bring him any joy to say so. "Our Commander wants those treaties found, which means they are important. We need to at least try and we can always avoid the darkspawn."

"Exactly." Caden wasn't quite sure why Alistair felt the need to repeat her plan back to her, but if it made him happy then so be it.

Daveth held out his hand to Jory, who allowed him to sling his arm across the smaller mans shoulder. With Daveths support, the two were able to limp slowly back towards the fortress. Caden watched them go, a mix of feelings fighting for control. She felt around for any sense of jealousy watching them head back to the relative safety of Ostagar, but she found none. In its place was determination. She had a job to do. _They_ had a job. Caden turned to Alistair. "Shall we?"

Alistair nodded, his jaw tense and she fell into step beside him as he led them onwards. For a long while they didn't speak, other than for Alistair to direct them or to lead them around possible darkspawn. It felt very strange to have gone from actively seeking out the enemy to now avoiding detection as much as possible.

Eventually the marshland gave way to more solid ground and more woodland sprung up around them. "The location of the cache should be through here."

Caden nodded and headed through the trees. Alistair caught up beside her. "You don't usually talk much, do you?" He asked mildly. She glanced at him, saying nothing. Alistair snorted. "Yeah, that was rather an obvious point. Yet giving orders seemed to come naturally to you."

"I talk… when necessary." Caden clarified, even as a voice in her head pointed out that she was happy to talk to Alistair and the others if she saw an opportunity to be unkind. Alistair seemed to be waiting to see if any more words would be forthcoming. Caden sighed. "Have you considered the possibility that I just don't have anything to say to you? I don't see much appeal for making small talk when we have a job to do."

"I suppose." Alistair replied, not sounding particularly offended. "I wonder, though, if all the effort you put into being antagonistic might be better spent being at least neutral, if not out and out friendly. If you become a Grey Warden you'll be our sister. Wouldn't it be better to start on good terms?"

"I'm an only child," Caden bit back as they began to crest a hill. "I'm no-one's sister and I don't intend to change that."

Alistair followed up the hill, his long strides meaning that he easily caught up to her. "We're not _that_ bad, are we? Or is it just me? You just can't stand me?"

"I don't know you." Caden said, looking straight ahead, an edge of exasperation slipping over her words. "I don't have an opinion about you."

"You could get to know me-"

"I don't want to." Caden interrupted, stopping at the top of the hill in the shadow of a ruined fort that was in even worse condition than Ostagar and turning to Alistair. "Why can't you accept that? I don't _want_ to know you." For a moment a shadow crossed Alistairs face and a nip of guilt twisted her gut. Caden groaned. "Look, you're a fine leader." She offered after a moment. It didn't seem like much. "You're getting this job done; we have the blood and we're going to find that cache."

Alistair looked away, his expression downcast. It struck Caden that for all of his smiles and little jokes, this was serious business and he was probably going to be judged on this by his superiors. By Duncan. How might that be weighing on him, she wondered.

"Ser Jory got injured." Alistair said softly.

Now it was Cadens turn to snort. She stood and crossed her arms over her chest, derision all over her face. "If he'd stopped when I told him to, he wouldn't have hurt himself. You managed to stop when I shouted. Ah, there you are," she offered magnanimously. "I do have an opinion of you: I think you're better than Jory." Alistair looked up and met her eye. "Of course, I think Jory is an idiot, so this is very minor praise at best."

Alistair laughed, suddenly filling the space with a sound of joy that caused a nearby crow to start and take sudden flight. "I'll take it." He said. "You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it really brings people together."

Caden felt the corners of her mouth twitch. She turned away, hiding her smile and they began to walk towards the set of ruins before them. Alistair was a strange human indeed, but perhaps he made better company than the others.

"The cache should be here somewhere." Alistair said as they crossed the space to meet the ruins.

"What exactly are we looking for?" Caden asked. "What's so important about these treaties?"

Alistair hesitated and Caden hiked one eyebrow as she looked over her shoulder at him. "Don't get close lipped now." She chided. "You've been dropping hints all over the place about this mysterious Joining and the blood. You might as well tell me what we're here to find."

Alistair flushed. "Picked up on that, did you?"

"That neither you nor Duncan seem to want to talk about why we need blood to join the Wardens?" Caden retorted. "Subtly isn't your strongest suit."

"No, it isn't." Alistair conceded, though he didn't elaborate on her question.

"So, treaties?" Caden prompted.

"They give the Wardens the right to conscript armies to aid in the fighting of a Blight." Alistair finally explained and a minute of silence.

Caden frowned. "Duncan already has those conscription rights." She said. "That's how he got me released into his custody."

Alistair nodded. "Yes, but the Rite of Conscription only works for individuals to join the Order of the Grey Wardens. On the other hand, these treaties were signed centuries back to give the Wardens the power to call on whole armies to fight alongside the Grey Wardens. Blights are serious business, but to non-Grey Wardens it can be hard to spot them and sometimes for whatever reason, the encroaching Blight can be denied by those who ought to be sending fighters to aid the Wardens."

Caden nodded, but she didn't fully understand the need for these treaties. They had an army; the king had assembled more men and women than she'd ever seen in one place, all bearing arms or wielding magic for the cause of stopping this Blight. She decided to keep this curiosity quiet lest Alistair think she was warming up to him and followed his lead as he started to search the grounds around the overgrown ruins. Where Ostagar was crumbling, these ruins were overrun with nature as it claimed the stones back. Caden reached over and brushed moss and dirt from the closest stone. What was once probably white stone was now caked in grime, and growths of vines wrapped tightly around the pillars that still stood upright. At least one pillar was toppled over completely, it's bricks sunken into the ground, where grasses had grown over the white. There was something strangely moving about this site of humanity being pulled back to the earth and reclaimed by nature.

Alistair was stepping into the ruins to search and Caden hesitated. She didn't really want to disturb the peace of this place. It was quieter here than Ostagar, more tranquil than the Wilds they had trekked through. The silence was heavy and still around them, a feeling like snow falling while the world slept. For the first time since the morning of her wedding, Caden felt able to draw a full breath. A flash of dark caught Cadens eye and she turned her head to see the dark feathers of a bird disappearing between the stones.

"Aha!" Caden snapped out of the quiet and whirled to Alistairs shout. "Found it!"

Caden headed over to where Alistair was bent over a mess of cut plants. He'd used a knife to clear away the vegetation and Caden pushed away the pang of regret at seeing how easily he'd bested the flora. More disruption in this strange slice of solitude and nature. There was an old crate under the plants, which looked bruised if not broken. Alistair lifted the lid as his companion drew closer, but before she could look inside Alistair let out a small cry of dismay. "They're gone."

"Gone?"

Alistair straightened up and gestured to the empty depths of the crate. "Damn." he muttered. Caden felt her heart sink. Failure, it seemed, was sticking to her like tree sap and she could see the same disappointment in Alistairs eyes. For once it didn't bother her that they were sharing a moment.

"It's not your fault." She heard the quiet words trip over her lips before she registered that she was even speaking. Alistair was lost in thought and appeared not to have heard her, but when Caden reached out a hand to get his attention and he happened to turn sharply, she flinched away. Whether he registered or not she didn't know, as he walked passed her away from the empty crate and the ruins. Caden hesitated a moment and then followed, casting a last gaze over the ruins in wonder.

She broke into a run to catch up, but almost ran smack into Alistair when he suddenly stopped dead. Caden peered around him. "What's wrong?"

Following Alistairs eyeline revealed a woman standing just outside the ruins, watching them. Caden stepped around Alistair and took in the sight. She was tall and slim, with striking amber eyes and dark hair piled artfully atop her head. Her skin was pale, seeming all the moreso for the dark clothes she wore. They appeared to be stitched together from multiple scraps of leather, cloth and feathers. She looked beautiful and terribly mysterious, like a character come to life from the fairytales in Cadens books.

The woman looked down at them both with a curious and haughty expression. "What have we here?" Her voice was smooth and smokey, mist curling through the trees at dusk. Caden remembered Daveths shaky words as he fretted about witches in the wilds. Was this who he had feared?

"Careful," Alistair said in a low voice. "She looks Chasind and there might be others nearby."

Caden wasn't sure what Chasind meant, whether it was a human term for witches that she had never heard before, or something else, but it didn't seem like the right moment to ask.

The woman began to approach the duo slowly, her hips rolling with every step. Caden felt her spine stiffen as she tried to stand up straighter, not wanting this woman to look down on her. Alistair shifted beside her, but said nothing yet.

"I've been watching your progress as you wound your way through these wilds like some sort of lumbering, four-headed beast." she said, smiling sardonically at them. "I was amused when you dismissed the others, casting off two of those heads," she said directing her words at Caden. "For a while I thought you might have had an ulterior motive; attempting some alone time with this one." The term 'alone time' was laden with far too much meaning for a seemingly innocuous phrase. Caden felt heat rush her face and she automatically took a step away from Alistair, shaking her head vehemently. Alistair looked equally as uncomfortable. The woman laughed. Caden could help but note out of the corner of her eye that Alistairs hand felt for the pommel of his sword. It did not go unnoticed by the women either.

"Have I frightened you, Ser?" she asked in a laughing tone. "Or touched a nerve?"

"Who are you and what do you want?" Alistair asked sharply.

The woman gazed down at him and her eyes roved over his body from head to toe. Evidently his readying himself to draw a weapon didn't bother her and she turned from him to Caden, effectively blocking him out. Alistair frowned at her back, which was when Caden spotted the staff strapped behind her. A mage, outside of the circle. Caden felt a rush of interest that overtook her fear; what was this woman doing out here? When the mage spoke next it was directed to Caden alone.

"So, why are you here, picking through a desiccated tower? Scavenging for long lost treasures?"

Caden opened her mouth to reply, but glanced at Alistair. He had his eyes narrowed as he was surveying the woman. She didn't want to speak for the both of them, but Alistair didn't appear to be in the mood to talk to her at that moment, so Caden wetted her dry lips and spoke. "We were searching for something." She croaked out, then cleared her throat. "I, er… that is… well met, mage." She inclined her head in a nod of greeting. "My name is Caden and that's Alistair; we are Grey Wardens from Ostagar. The items we were seeking were in once in a chest, but the chest is now empty and so if you happen to have any idea where we might find them, we would be most grateful."

The mage looked surprised for a moment, but then smiled. "Now that _**is **_civility, and glad I am to see it here deep in the Wilds. You may call me Morrigan if it pleases you and I do in fact know where the items are at present."

"You!" Alistair burst out suddenly. "You stole them, didn't you? You're some sort of sneaky..._witch_ _thief_!"

"So much for being civil," Caden said rolling her eyes. "Please, Morrigan, forgive Alistair. He has received many head wounds today and it has somewhat addled his mind." Alistair opened his mouth to argue, but then shut it again and allowed Caden to take charge.

Morrigan laughed. "You are wise, man, to keep that foolish tongue from wagging when there are women talking sense." To Caden she said: "Come, both of you. I will take you to my mother who has been _**protecting**_ the documents from harm."

Caden quickly hurried to follow, with Alistair trudging behind.


	9. Chin Up

**Chin Up**

_You think the world's unsafe_

"So, she was as mad as a bucket of frogs." Alistair said cheerfully as the gates of Ostagar loomed into view. Caden suspected he had been holding his tongue for some time in order to make sure that Morrigan was out of earshot and therefore unable to overhear his comments about her mother. Caden said nothing, but raised her eyebrows. She shifted her pack onto both shoulders and was glad to feel the weight of the treaties inside there. Success had come to her at last and she was surprisingly pleased with the result. She even found herself looking forward to returning to Duncan with the news. "Well she was." Alistair went on as they started walking. "What was all that about stockings? I didn't want to think about her stockings. Or anything else for that matter."

Caden couldn't hold back a small smile. While it had been clear that being in the company of Morrigan, the witch of the wilds, and her mother had not been a comfortable experience for him, now that they were in sight of the walls of the camp with the treaties he had brightened considerably. Cadens own pride at succeeding in their mission was lightening her step as well. His chattering, for once, wasn't bothering her at all.

The sun was heading over the horizon, the sky starting to blush as they headed back to camp. The walk from the ruins to Morrigans home had not been terribly far and notably devoid of darkspawn. Morrigan had just sniffed derisively when asked if they were concerned about the closeness to the horde.

Alistair looked pleased to see her slight amusement at his words. "What did you think about Morrigan?" he shuddered. "Pretty scary and strange, right? Creepy to think that she was watching us."

"I liked her." Caden said, with a half-hearted shrug. "She wasn't terribly friendly, but she did help us when she didn't have to.

"You _liked_ her?" Alistair's voice was so scandalised that it almost brought a laugh to Caden's lips. "What was there to like? I'm just grateful she didn't cook us in a pot."

"I didn't get the impression that she ate people," Caden gently chided. The question rolled through her mind as she considered her answer. "I don't know what it is, but I guess I like the idea of living out here alone." She glanced back over her shoulder at the wilds they were leaving. "It's not the prettiest of places, but it's quiet and secluded and there's something rather appealing about that."

She turned back after a moment of gazing towards the wilds to find Alistair considering her with a bemused look on his face. "What?"

"I can't imagine why you'd want to live out here in the middle of nowhere," Alistair replied. "I can see the allure for someone like Morrigan; an creepy apostate hiding from the Chantry, but you come from a city, don't you? Wouldn't you be bored?"

Caden took a few moments to mull his words over, remembering the long days inside the Alienage walls, how she would clamber as high as possible to look out over the city when she could. The market wasn't far from the Alienage her vantage point gave her a view of colourful coverings over the stalls and the sound of people shouting out about their wares. Fun to watch as a child, but as she got older and the sensation of being trapped behind those walls under adulthood weighed on her and the lustre wore of. Finally, she began to speak with caution. "My home is in Denerim. Yes, it's a city, but I never saw all that much of it outside of the Alienage so I couldn't truly compare life in a city to life in the countryside. I guess I just see the appeal of living without people breathing down my neck." She shrugged, the casual action belying the knot in her stomach as she thought about this. "Out here they are beholden to no-one but themselves. I find that quite freeing."

That seemed to have given Alistair something to think about as they came to the gates and were allowed back inside by the guards. They made for the Warden section, the tents a far cry from the exit to the wilds thanks to their proximity to the king. As they walked, Caden spied the medical tents and without a word she diverted her course towards them, with Alistair scrambling suddenly to account for her change of direction. He didn't ask what they were doing, just followed as quiet as a rather heavy-footed shadow could be. Caden shifted the pack again as they crept up a wide ramp towards the healers and their charges. Her gaze swept over the injured men and women, many bandaged up tightly, others lying asleep. Heading towards the tents interior they were met by the odd keening cry and sob as the healers tended to the wounded. Caden stepped inside as no-one stopped her and looked through the lamp lit canvas medical centre. The first two beds bore bodies that had sheets drawn up over their faces and Caden felt her breath hitch at the sight. She'd spent her day hunting the enemy and extinguishing their lives, but to see this vision of lost soldiers hit her much harder. She thought of Nelaros' eyes when the life left him, how quickly they had dulled with the loss of his heartbeat. A perverse urge struck her to reach for the sheets and draw them back and her hand twitched. She clenched her hand into a fist and turned her head, heading further down the space between the two rows of bunks.

Up ahead she caught a flash of red hair and a shout of pain and she made a beeline that way, to where a healer was checking on Ser Jorys leg. The healer didn't stop to apologise for causing his flare of discomfort, but she did hand him a vial of shining red liquid, watching as he knocked it back in one swig. She nodded and moved on to her next patient. Jorys eyes alighted on the pair walking towards him.

"How's your leg?" Caden asked without preamble. Jory looked from her to Alistair, looking surprised to see them.

"Did you complete the task?" He asked, ignoring her and the question. Alistair nodded.

"We did. With thanks to you and Daveth for getting us as far as you did."

Caden thought that was rather a stretch, but she supposed they had both assisted in the collection of blood at least. "How's your leg?" She repeated evenly. Jory finally rested his gaze squarely on her.

"It's healing." He said bitterly. Caden bristled, suddenly cross for having sought him out at all. She'd only meant to check that he was well and had made it back in one piece. Clearly Jory was still smarting from his injury, but that wasn't her fault and she refused to feel bad about it. She had shouted a warning.

Jory looked to Alistair again. "I shall be well enough to complete whatever task is next for us. I have already seen the Warden-Commander and discussed this with him."

Alistair smiled and reached over to clap a hand on the mans shoulder. "Just rest for now, my friend. The Joining takes time to arrange; we can postpone until tomorrow if needs be."

Caden frowned. That didn't seem fair. She wasn't exactly champing at the bit to become a fully-fledged Grey Warden, but to have it delayed by Jorys stupidity seemed rather spiteful to her and Daveth. She held back her thoughts and offered a curt nod to Jory and then turned and stalked out of the tent. Once again, her shadow hurried to catch up, which didn't take long as even at her longest stride he easily out-paced her.

"Good to see they got back safely," Alistair said as they headed away from the healers' tent. Caden made a non-committal noise. "Are you… alright?" Alistair asked hesitantly.

Caden gritted her teeth. She didn't want to get into it. She felt annoyed and her skin itched with that feeling. Her instinct was a to snipe at him, but as they were on somewhat easier terms that she couldn't bring herself to break. So, she kept quiet, going against the urge to take it out on him. She wasn't even sure exactly what her problem was. She didn't particularly want to rush to the Joining, but neither did she want to put it off. Much like any other unpleasantness, she would rather it was over and done with.

Alistair sensibly kept his mouth shut and didn't press the issue. They made their way through the rest of camp, passing Daveth cosying up to a woman who was finishing a shift at the smithy; she had soot streaked across her face and from what Caden could see, a glistening sheen of sweat across her chest. Daveth was smiling and reached out to brush a strand of damp hair off her forehead as they passed. The smith had one hand on her hip and was smirking back at him, evidently not swooning at his suggestive words, but even so she seemed quite relaxed with him. Caden felt a strange swoop in her belly to see them together. There was something so effortless about their conversation. The only people she had ever seen at such ease with one another's closeness were her parents, who'd been married for a very long time. Seeing two seeming strangers so relaxed with one another was odd to say the least. Daveth caught sight of the Alistair and Caden walking passed and offered a quick wave, before his attention returned to his partner.

"See?" Alistair murmured. "The Blight brings everyone closer together."

Caden hated that she gasped at what was clearly a joke, but when she risked a glance to Alistair he looked equally as shy about Daveth flirting with the smithy in the middle of camp, as she felt, so Caden decided he was probably teasing himself as much as her. She smiled softly. "I guess so." She said weakly.

When they finally reached the Grey Wardens tents, they were quickly pointed in the exact direction of Duncan. He was in the main tent, where the Wardens held their own battle meetings and Caden let Alistair lead the way through the canvas opening. Despite the space between them, she sensed his whole body stiffen as they went inside, and it was with great curiosity that she stepped up beside him to see what was making him react like that.

Duncan was indeed at the war table, along with the golden-haired king who Caden had met and already forgotten the name of. Beside him was the taut advisor who had judged her upon her arrival to the camp, and a final man who had never seen before. He was tall like Duncan, but broader, with harsh lines across his weathered face. His black hair was loose and hung either side of his face. He looked every inch the aged general, even before she took in his heavy plate armour. The men were hovered over a map and all looked drawn.

"It's bad news whatever way you slice it," the king was saying. His advisor nodded. "So where is Fergus now?"

"South." Came the reply from the advisor. "Scouting the wilds. There is no way to reach him until he returns."

"Damn." The king replied. "Let me know the minute he returns. He'll want to know the news and with the Teryn and Teryna dead we can't expect any more soldiers from Highever. _Damn_." The king finally looked up and saw that Caden and Alistair were in the tent.

Caden didn't really know how to greet them properly, so she waited nervously beside Alistair. He raised his right hand and pressed his fist to his left breast plate, bowing his head towards the king. "Your highness," he said stiffly. Caden only hesitated a moment before copying the move and stood awkwardly until Duncan smiled over at them. "Ah, you have returned. I trust you did well?"

"We did, Duncan," Alistair replied. Caden was confused; the jovial, easy-going man she had gotten used to was gone and in his place was this stern looking soldier. It was a disconcertingly sudden switch. She swallowed and pulled off her pack. Duncan nodded and came around to collect the items, peering inside when Caden lifted the flap to show off the treaties. Neither Alistair nor Duncan spoke, but she watched them share a look that allowed something to pass between them. She decided to keep quiet; better to come across as knowledgeable, but silent than to display her ignorance to the room.

"Excellent work, both of you." Their commander said.

"Glad to see that Ser Jory and Daveth made it back." Alistair said. The king looked over to them, seeming to properly notice them for the first time.

"The tenacity of the Wardens in action." He said, grinning to the general. "You see why I need them to fight with me? When the Wardens have a task, they see it through to completion no matter what."

The general looked over at them, clearly unimpressed by the pair. Caden met his gaze and though she wanted to shrink under the intensity in his grey eyes, she kept her back straight. "You, elf." He said in a gruff voice. Caden felt her eyebrows twitch closer in irritation at being called elf.

"She has a name, Loghain." The king reminded genially.

"Oh?" The man called Loghain turned to his king. "What is it, pray tell?" But the king seemed not hear him, suddenly very interested in the papers on the table. Caden felt a little better about forgetting her monarchs name now. She glanced at Duncan who gave a barely perceptible nod.

"My name is Caden Tabris, Ser." She said, trying to keep her voice steady. She was back to feeling so lost and small in the camp and in this close space with so many tall, broad human men. She had almost forgotten how that felt.

"You look like you fought messily today." He remarked brusquely. "Are you wearing more of your own blood or the enemies I wonder."

Caden blanched and looked down at herself. She did look a state, with her own red lifeblood mingling with the dark ichor of those she'd killed. In addition to that mix, was her own sweat and dirt from the woods. She gathered she didn't look anywhere near as seductive as Daveths smithy did wearing evidence of her hard work on her skin and attire.

"It's theirs." She replied. "I'm relatively unscathed, thank you for asking."

"Caden fought well today," Alistair said and the edge to his voice was clear.

"I have no doubt," Loghain grunted in response "But some finesse wouldn't go amiss. Save you getting quite so coated in filth."

"Nothing a good wash won't fix," the king said smiling. "I'd like to see you fight tomorrow," he added to Caden. "I've not had much chance to watch elves fight."

Caden caught the slightest eyeroll from Loghain that endeared him to her, despite his imposing stature and rude comments. She didn't really know what to say to the king in response. Duncan came to her aid.

"Tomorrow we will hold the Joining and all being well, you can watch Caden spar with the other Wardens, Cailan." Ah, that was the name. "You are of course always welcome to observe."

"Well, then, good luck," Cailan said. "I shall hopefully see you tomorrow once you have joined the Wardens." He nodded his farewell and then turned and repeated the move. "Alistair."

"Your Highness," Alistair said, eyes down, once again giving a small bow. Then he headed out of the tent, with Caden following behind this time. He marched halfway across their camp before he stopped abruptly. "So, bathing." He said without dressing up his words. "You do look a terrible mess; I'll find Lyra and she can take you to get cleaned up."

Caden flinched. Alistair was being very curt with her all of a sudden and adding that to her embarrassment at just how overdue a thorough wash she was, was making her feel very hot and prickly. Her voice dried up in her throat and she just nodded mutely. Alistair looked around, taking advantage of his height to spy the curly headed archivist.

"Lyra!" he called and headed for her, with Caden slowly traipsing behind. "Can you take Caden to the river? She badly needs to bathe." Another wince from Caden that Alistair didn't acknowledge. Lyra nodded, her curls bouncing as she smiled.

"Of course," she replied cheerily. "Let's head to our tent first, get this armour off and find you some clothes." Alistair was moving before Lyra finished talking and disappeared, leaving Caden to continue her silent act with Lyra now. She let herself be corralled to the tent and helped out of her armour. She didn't even complain that Lyra had busied herself finding a spare set of clothes while Caden was in the Wilds.

The river was fast and thankfully devoid of humans when the women found it. The water was cold and Caden tried to forget that she was in her smalls beside a woman she barely knew, out in a river where anyone could happen past. She shivered and washed the water over her limbs and body, quickly going numb. The water ran brown and pink and black as the dirt and different types of blood and filth sloughed off her and sped downriver. The sun had set and the moon was rising, so she felt almost like she was bathing in moonlight. Far from being a romantic idea, it was icy and unpleasant, but once it was over, she dressed in the too big tunic and baggy trousers, stuffing the excessive cloth around her calves into her mothers' boots. Lyra had cooed over her hair, which was long when it was loose and the night light had turned the gold to silver. Caden let the numb feeling remain after the chill abated and so let Lyra play with her long locks, plaiting it into a rope that she then wound around itself and pinned atop her head. Caden wanted to cry off dinner, but her stomach protested loudly about that thought, so she found herself back at the mess tent holding a hearty bowl of stew, bread and more fruit.

Lyra saw Caden to her seat and then, smiling, headed off to sit with the rest of the proper Wardens. Caden found herself sitting next to Alistair opposite two empty chairs. Alistair was lost in thought, ripping pieces off his hunk of bread and dropping them into his stew. It seemed like a reasonable way to eat, but Caden noticed that his eyes were glassy and his aim was off; the bread that fell in the stew only did so by accident, not design. Alistair wasn't even aware that she was next to him so Caden, not knowing what else to do, picked up her spoon and took a mouthful of her food. The meat was goat and with one bite Caden was at once transported back to the Alienage, the smell of the stew differing only by the slightly different herbs in the bowl. Her throat tightened around the meat as she thought of her father at home alone eating a single bowl at their table built for three and she coughed. For a terrifying moment the diced goat remained wedged in her throat, but then it shifted and she was able to swallow, drawing a gulping breath. She inhaled deeply, the breath ending in a sob. Caden clamped her fist over her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut to keep any tears at bay. She didn't need to lose it; she _couldn't_ lose it right now. And for what? For eating similar food to what she ate back home? The flavour wasn't exact, her portion was bigger than ever and she had fruit to accompany it. This was nothing like back home. Nothing _here_ was like back home. The image of Cyrion eating by himself flashed back before her eyes.

Despite her growling stomach, Caden shoved the bowl of stew and bread away. She grabbed the apple and got up from the table in a rush. She tripped on the chair, knocking it to the ground, but she kept her feet. Alistair seemed to awaken from whatever reverie had claimed him and he whirled in the chair seeing her for the first time. "Caden? What's-?"

She didn't wait to hear him; she clung to her apple and fled from the tent.

Caden knew she couldn't return to her bunk just yet. She wasn't ready to face people yet, especially not Lyra with her perky attitude and misplaced kindness. The sky was fully dark now and the camp was sporadically lit by lanterns here and there. Caden shivered in the night air, wishing she had a cloak on. She walked blindly through the camp. It looked so different in the dark and she didn't know her way at the best of times. She rolled the apple in her hands while she walked, if only to give her anxious fingers something to do. It was red and fat, and she was starving, but she didn't take a bite.

After some time weaving in and out of the ruins, dodging tents and various clusters of people, Caden caught a whiff of wet fur and her curiosity propelled her onwards. She found a small encampment of pens, too small for livestock. She edged closer, peering at the pens to see what animals could possibly call this place home. She heard a whine and looked to the pen where this sorry noise had come from.

It was a dog. A huge beast of a dog by Cadens standards, but even though it was huge and probably had a mouthful of sharp teeth, this creature looked so forlorn that Cadens fears were quelled as soon as they rose within her. The dog was lying on its side, its chest rising and falling slowly. The moonlight picked up the whites of the dogs' eye, which was the only way Caden could tell it had made an effort to look at her, gazing over the half wall into the pen. Then a noise made her start, as the dogs stubby tail started thumping rhythmically against the floor.

"Hey you," Caden said in a hushed voice. "You don't look so good."

The wagging intensified, though the dog still made no move to get up. Caden relaxed further, resting her chin on her arms on the wall. "I don't feel great either." She said. "I don't belong here, you see." The dog managed to lift up its head and its mouth opened, the tongue lolling out over the lower jaw. "You look ridiculous." Caden said with affection. She reached for her apple and took a few bites, crunching loudly in the darkness. The dog sniffed the air. "You want this? Do dogs even eat apples?" She wondered out loud.

A hand found her shoulder and Caden heard her name, but she had already leapt out of her skin. There was nowhere to go, with a hand on her back and her front against the wall and panic shot through her veins like a cold knife. Her hand jerked and the apple flew into the pen. Caden spun as well as she could, knocking her knee on the stones, but she was able to turn and her fist dove upwards and connected with the underside of a jaw. It hurt; her hand went white hot, then numb and her knee was complaining loudly. She heard growling behind her; the dog was up on shaky feet, letting its presence be known.

"Ow!" The haze of fear dulled as the familiar voice cut through. Alistair stepped back a few paces, recoiling at the punch to his face, rubbing his jaw. Caden felt a red mist descend.

"You _arsehole_." She snapped her breathing fast and ragged. "I told you not to just grab me, what were you doing, what were you thinking, you can't… you can't just sneak up on me…"

Her words stumbled over each other and fell out of her mouth in a heated rush. Her anger was too hot and fast for her tongue to make sense of the things she needed to say.

Alistair looked down at Caden, his hand still tenderly feeling the point where she had struck him She felt a poisonous glee that he was in pain. "Caden, I'm sorry. I thought you heard me."

Caden was shaking with rage, her distress and fury too fierce to calm down yet. She had told him, hadn't she? Not to just grab people? Had he really not realised she meant her? What would it take for him to learn?

"This hurts, by the way," Alistair said, gesturing to his jaw. Caden felt a new spike of irritation at his complaint, but to her surprise he chuckled. "Good arm."

The unexpected compliment cut through the hot waves of rage and she felt the first signs of it abating. In the pen, the dog had stopped growling and Caden suddenly her the crunch of her apple. She glanced over her shoulder to see the dog with apple juice all over its muzzle. "I guess they do eat apples after all."

Alistair moved his jaw from side to side, making it click. Caden winced. "That one does at any rate." Then he sighed. "Caden, I'm really sorry for frightening you. I should be better at this by now. I'm sorry."

The apology sounded sincere, but Caden couldn't help but note that it was by no means the first apology he had given her. "Don't do it again, and I might forgive you." She warned. She was in no mood to feel any more stupid and jumpy. She lowered her hands, feeling her fists unclench finally. She was still hungry, but mostly she was tired. "Can you direct me back to the Wardens tents?" Caden asked. "I think I'd best get to bed before I get any more lost."

"Of course," Alistair replied. "Big day tomorrow. The Joining."

"I can't wait," Caden deadpanned. They walked back to the Wardens tents in the quiet darkness.


	10. Let Me LiveLet Me Die

**Let Me Live/ Let Me Die**

_Fear in the dark, all these thoughts have never stopped_

It was with an aching head and a growling belly that Caden sat down to break her fast the next morning. Sleep had not been easy to come by, nor keep, and she had been woken by the same crushing feeling as the previous night, with Vaughans face hovering above her in sleep. The one bright side was that Lyra had slept through these night terrors, leaving Caden to take her time to quietly catch her breath and allow her heartrate to steady without the watchful eye of the other woman. The prospect of the secretive Joining was weighing heavily on her and Caden settled into her chair with her bowl of porridge and honey with a glum expression.

Alistair was back beside her and now they were graced with the presence of Daveth again. He was yawning over his drink, but he was grinning to himself when Caden sat down. He spotted her and nodded. "Mornin'," he said with a drawl in his voice. Caden looked up and blinked. "Wow, you look rough." He commented without scorn. "Bad night?"

Alistair glanced her way and Caden pressed her lips into a thin line before replying. "Fine thanks."

"My night was long and hard." Daveth quipped with a chuckle.

"I didn't ask." Caden bit back curtly. He was making her feel quite nauseous with his cheer and double entendres, but she was determined to eat her breakfast. She'd definitely regretted leaving her dinner last night when her stomach had protested after the first time waking up from a bad dream. She had been surprised that her dreams hadn't contained any of the new horrors she had faced the day before, slaying the darkspawn. It just served to prove that Vaughan had been a monster in his own right, not to mention that he had been haunting her since she was thirteen, rather than something she hadn't even known existed until recently. Caden dragged her mind back to the present and gestured with her spoon to the empty seat opposite Alistair. "How is Jory?"

"Better, I believe." Alistair replied. "I'm going to see him later, but I understand his injuries have much improved today."

"Good." Caden said and found she meant it. She didn't like the man, but she would have been sorry to hear he was wounded without the means to recover. "So, when is the Joining?"

Daveth's grin wiped off his face, replaced with a more serious look as he awaited the answer.

"Soon," Alistair said quietly.

Caden started to eat her food and watched Alistair covertly. There was a small but angry looking bruise on his jawline, which Caden assumed she could take credit for. She hadn't thought she'd hit him _that_ hard. He still seemed as lost in himself as he had by the end of the day yesterday. It struck her that there was every chance that he was nervous about the Joining, given that these three were his charges. She didn't have the energy to worry about him, not while her insides were in knots. She focused on getting a good breakfast into her.

The elf was back at the pot wash. Caden handed over her bowl and spoon with reluctance, but the elf took it with a big smile. Caden hesitate before moving off, but seeing that no humans were in earshot she asked: "What's your name?"

The elf looked up surprised, but not perturbed by the question. "Me? Salasan, Ser,"

Being titled as Ser gave her an uncomfortable jolt. "I'm not a knight." She corrected quietly. "I'm just a recruit."

"Well, good luck to you then, miss." He said kindly. It occurred to Caden that this young man appeared to be about her age. Their lives were so different despite both being at the Grey Warden encampment. It sat strangely with her. At a loss of anything else to say Caden bid farewell and took off.

She had a destination in mind, no aimless wandering on this day. She remembered fuzzily the route to the kennels and after a few wrong turns she found herself before the pens. The smell of the dogs hit and she approached, looking for her friend. The thump-thump-thump of the tail reached her ears before she clapped eyes on the beast and when she peered over the wall, she was greeted with that same dog smile, and lolling tongue.

"Good morning," she said softly. "How are you doing today?" The dog made no move to stand, but listened as she spoke to it.

"Excuse me, miss?" Caden turned and saw a bearded man approaching her. He had called to her with plenty of space between them and was making his way to her in a wide arc, as if keeping himself in her widest peripheral view. It struck her as a way someone might approach a wary animal and yet it didn't bother her. She almost smiled thinking that she could suggest the same to Alistair, to treat her like a flighty beast. Maybe then he wouldn't keep sneaking up on her.

"Good morning," she said to the human man who had reached the wall with her. "I hope you don't mind me looking at your hound."

"Mabari," the man corrected. "And of course not."

"Mabari then." Caden said. "It's beautiful. I'm afraid it ate my snack last night. I hope that didn't mess with its gut?"

The man's eyes crinkled with mirth, though his beard didn't move. "What did she get off you?"

"An apple."

"Ah," he chuckled, finally breaking into a small smile. "That won't do any harm." He stuck out a hand. "Farald Mason, kennel master."

Caden looked down at the meaty hand. Why did humans have to be so big? Nevertheless, she reached over and shook his hand politely, heart hammering in spite of the kindness in his face. "Caden Tabris," she replied. "Warden Recruit."

His bushy eyebrows rose sharply. "Oh aye? Well, they're saying this is a true Blight, so it's Wardens we need now more than ever. Glad you're here."

Caden didn't want to point out that she wasn't a Warden just yet, not when his reaction had been so positive. Instead she turned back to the mabari. She was a beautiful creature, but she still wasn't getting up. Farald heaved a heavy sigh beside her.

"She's not right, this one." He said. Caden frowned automatically in response.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Darkspawn." Farald said grimly. "They fight the evil creatures and can't help but ingest the sick blood. Then _they_ get sick. I'm running low on supplies, and her owner didn't make it back from the last fight they were in. Don't have anyone I can ask to go and restock."

"What do you need?" Caden asked, watching the mabari roll over onto her side again.

"A medicinal flower." Farald explained. "They're pretty common in the wilds, but so are darkspawn. I can't ask anyone to go out just for flowers for an owner-less mabari."

"I'll do it." Caden heard herself say. "I've been to the Wilds. I'm sure I could find this flower."

Farald considered her for a long moment. "You would do that?" Caden nodded. "Alright then. It's a white blossom with a red centre and it has a sweet smell, like honey." Caden nodded again, trying to confine that information to memory. "I don't want to rush you, but she could use it sooner rather than later."

"I understand." Caden said sincerely. With a last look at the mabari, she turned and headed back to the Wardens camp.

"Alistair?"

He looked up from the armour he was oiling to see Caden looking nervously at him. She always seemed a little on edge, unless she was entirely consumed by nerves. Those seemed to be her two most popular modes, with outright obnoxious a close third. Alistair offered a smile to set her at ease, which worked as well as it usually did. Which was not at all. "What do you need?" He replied.

Caden stepped closer, her arms straight at her sides, but her hands were quietly clenching and unclenching. Alistair wasn't even sure if she was aware of that fact.

"Can I ask you something?"

Alistair set down the oiled rag. He was practically done anyway. "So far you've said two things and both were questions. So, sure, ask away."

Caden hesitated a moment, seeming to consider her words before speaking. "Can you take me into the Wilds?"

Of all the things he would have expected, this was probably the least likely. Alistair furrowed his brow. "The Wilds? What for? Couldn't get enough of the luscious landscape? Eager to kill more darkspawn?" Then a thought struck him and he frowned in dismay. "You're not thinking about Morrigan again are you? I know you said you quite liked how she lived, but you can't just run off to her and her mother."

Alistair watched Cadens face shift from anxious to surprised and then it settled on annoyed. Great, another wrong turn.

"Oh yes, I thought I'd go live with the witches in the wilds." Caden retorted, sarcasm oozing into her words. "Do you think I'm asking you to run away with me? Do you really think if I was going to sneak off, I'd come and ask you for permission first?"

Alistair held up his hands in a sign of peace. "You're right." He smiled tiredly. He really wasn't doing well with Caden, but he had no idea how to talk to her without inadvertently stepping all over his words. It was a special talent of his to always say the wrong thing, but he'd never gotten on someone's bad side quite as quickly as this. Not when he was trying to get along with them. "So, the Wilds? What's out there that you want?"

He watched Cadens jaw work as she seemed to rein in her irritation at him. After a moment she swallowed whatever she might have wanted to snark at him. "A flower."

She was full of surprises. "A flower?" He asked, resisting the urge to make another joke. His mind leapt from one attempt at humour to the next; was she hoping to build a get well soon bouquet for Ser Jory or did she think the Grey Wardens were lacking in floral headgear as part of their armour? None of it was worth trying to make a joke with. For the first time in his twenty years on Thedas, Alistair held his tongue.

Caden nodded. "The mabari I was watching last night? She's sick and her owner died, so there's no-one to get her a flower that she needs. The kennel master said it would help…" Alistair watched her trail off, her expression deflating somewhat. She hadn't approached him with overwhelming confidence, but whatever she had had was now nowhere to be seen.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "It's just occurred to me that maybe he was just messing with me. Does it… sound stupid to use a flower to heal a dog?" Her face was guarded, but her large blue eyes, he could see, were open and anxious. He shook his head quickly.

"No, not at all." Alistair lowered his hands to rest on his knees. "Look at elf root; a plain looking plant, but you brew it a certain way and it fixes what ails you." He shrugged. "Why would he want to mess with you?"

Caden's head dipped, angling her gaze downwards to her feet. Her hands clenched into a fist again and this time they didn't relax. She opened her mouth a few times, but no words were forthcoming. Alistair couldn't help but wonder what she was trying and failing to say, but rather than push her, he decided to jump to the pertinent point. "No time to go to the Wilds today." He explained simply. "We can't risk you being late for the Joining." Her eyes met his and she could see the disappointment in them. "I can promise you that after the Joining there will be ample opportunity to find it, though. We've got to train new Wardens on how to use the darkspawn sense you'll get after and there's no better place to practise than the place where the horde keep coming from."

Caden didn't look thrilled to hear this. It was hard to say whether it was the flat-out denial of her request or the stuff that would occur after the Joining. And, Alistair thought ruefully, she didn't know the half of it. A stab of guilt caught him unexpectedly. It didn't seem right to keep everything from the recruits. She might have been conscripted, but even so it didn't seem fair to hide the truth. Not to mention the fact that she'd caught his stumbles with omitting certain facts about the Joining, so she probably had some idea of what was to come. "Caden…" Alistair started, well aware that he was needlessly talking himself into telling her everything.

"I get it, it's fine." Caden hurried to say. Alistair was momentarily confused, until he realised that she of course hadn't heard his inner conscience talking and was referring to the trip to the Wilds. "It can probably wait. I don't know, I don't know how darkspawn illnesses… progress? I would like to get it later if I can though."

"Caden," Alistair raised his voice ever so slightly and cut Caden short. She blinked. "I promise we'll look for the flower as soon as you're a Warden." _If you survive that is_. His heart thrummed with discomfort. "You have my word."

Caden considered him for a long while, then nodded. "Thank you." She said softly. Alistair nodded and watched as she backed up, eventually turning and heading away from him. Alistair picked up the rag again and half-heartedly started working the leather again, before he spotted that he was going over a section that was already well oiled. It didn't sit right, keeping the biggest secrets from them, the recruits. It was Duncans call to make as Warden Commander and he'd kept Alistair and his fellow recruits just as in the dark, but even so. Alistair put away his cleaning implements and headed to find Duncan to see if there was anything he needed from him for the ritual. Anything to pre-occupy his mind.

"And so, we come at last to the Joining."

Caden tried to relax, but her jaw was clenched tightly, her heart racing. She stood, with the other recruits, in a secluded area outside of Ostagar. Alistair had come to fetch her and with Daveth and Jory, now on two legs once again and with only a slight limp, they had traversed the fortress and placed distance between them and the rest of the soldiers. Heavy woodland was their destination and now they stood in a clearing with a few torches burning and trees all around them. The sun was just going down, casting them into gloom.

Duncan was standing by a small chest that he had yet to open. Caden didn't know what was inside it, but she didn't hold out high hopes of it containing something pleasant. Alistair was at his side, with the three recruits facing the Wardens. Caden risked a momentary glance to her right, gazing briefly at Daveth and then Jory. Both were tall and stoic, with no hint of dismay on either face. Maybe it was just her who was questioning her every life choice that had led to standing in this moment right now.

"The Grey Wardens are intricately linked with the Blight, for it was during the very first Blight that the Grey Wardens were formed." Duncan was saying solemnly. "As the darkspawn horde kept growing, it was determined that something radical was needed to quell their numbers and save all of humanity. So it was that soldiers came together to embark on a new journey to victory; they partook of their fallen foes blood and so it was that the Grey Wardens were born. This is what we all must do in order to join the Grey Wardens."

The words were spoken with such reverence, yet were so casual in their explanation of becoming a Warden that Caden almost missed the relevant parts. Jory was much quicker on the uptake.

"You want us to drink their blood?" He blustered. "Darkspawn blood?"

It was to Alistair that Caden looked, torn as she was between disgust and a strange urge to laugh. She knew the darkspawn blood would end up coming back to haunt her ever since Alistairs cagey words and as he met her gaze she could see an apology in his eyes. That quelled any mirth that might have come out of her mouth.

"There are plenty of soldiers back at camp who are dying from taking in darkspawn blood." Daveth pointed out very quietly.

"As our predecessors before us did, we drink darkspawn blood." Duncan nodded. He bent and opened the chest, withdrawing three glass bottles of something that was ominously thick and dark. Alistair stepped forward and took them as Duncan retrieved three silver chalices. They were beautifully crafted drinking vessels and it seemed so barbaric to fill them with that gore yet, and now the horrible giggling urge was back, wasn't that exactly what they were asking them to do with their bodies? "It is the source of our power, though it comes at a cost. Daveth is right that people die from the darkspawn taint, and there is no guarantee of surviving the Joining for any of you." Duncan straightened and looked at each of them in turn, letting his words sink in. "This is not purely darkspawn blood, but a concoction that includes the blood. If you survive drinking it, you become one of us and so become immune to the taint."

"It's how we are able to sense the darkspawn," Alistair added gruffly. "Due to the taint in our bodies."

It made sense, she had to admit. She would never have guessed what the cause for the darkspawn sense would have been, but now that he said it plainly it seemed like the most obvious reason. Caden couldn't seem to look away from Alistair; Duncan was standing and talking and it all seemed important, but Alistairs drawn face was holding her attention firmly. He had led them into the Wilds to gather blood for this ritual that might kill them. He had kept all of this back, kept it to himself. It would have made sense for him to have kept his charges at arm's length. Caden supposed that was probably what she would have done, but Alistair had been friendly and encouraging and concerned when Jory had been injured. He didn't want them to die. He wanted them to live.

Caden heard Jory and Daveth say something in response to Duncan, and realised they were all waiting for her to do the same. She looked blankly at Duncan.

"Are you ready, Caden?" Duncan repeated.

Caden gave a stilted nod. "If I die," she said suddenly, directing this to Alistair. "Promise you'll get that flower?"

Alistair just nodded back.

If the others were confused by this exchange, they gave no sign. Caden suspected the chances were very high that they were wrapped up in their own thoughts. The feeling in the clearing under the clouds was one of sombre trepidation and Caden had lied. She wasn't ready. Not even a little bit.

"We speak only a few words before the Joining, but they are of great importance." Duncan said. "Alistair, if you would be so kind."

Alistair swallowed then began to recite an oath with portentousness. "Join us brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry out the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day, we shall join you." Caden shuddered as a chill breeze swept through the clearing, causing the flames of the torches to bow and flicker. Shadows danced across Duncan, as he uncorked the first bottle and poured it into a chalice.

"Step forward Daveth."

For a moment there was no movement in the woods. Then Daveth did as requested and stepped up to take the chalice with a shaky hand. He peered distrustfully into the cup, but then, looking a lot more like his usual self, threw out a wan grin. "Whatever it takes." Daveth said, then knocked the cup back, swallowing its contents with ease. He handed Duncan back the cup. "Urgh, that's vile." He turned to stand back with the others, and it was as he turned that Caden felt her heart plummet into her stomach because his face suddenly went pale and taut. His mouth opened in a keening cry, and his fingers flew to his face, where he pressed his nails into his skin and dragged long rivets down his face, down to his neck, where he scratched and tore, his howl barely human. Caden was frozen in her spot as she watched. Was this normal? Was this him becoming a Warden? Or was he dying?

It felt like longer, but before she had even finished her stream of thoughts, the cocksure young horse thief was prone on the ground. Face in the dirt, unmoving.

Duncan sighed and nodded to Alistair. Caden watched him approach the body of Daveth and as respectfully as possible, he dragged him off to one side. Duncan was pouring the next cup, but Caden watched as Alistair took a knee beside Daveth and reached over to close his eyes and tuck his arms over his chest. He had wanted them all to live.

"Jory, step up," Duncan said, holding out the cup. Jory's chest was heaving as he moved closer. His breath was nothing but ragged panting and his eyes were wild. Even so he clasped the cup, but he was shaking so hard that the contents sloshed violently within. As a few drops flew from the chalice and landed on his hand, he reacted as if it were acid, flinging the cup aside in terror.

"No!" He barked. "I can't, I won't!"

Caden looked down as the chalice came to a stop by her feet, a small pool of dark liquid sinking into the forest floor.

"I have a child on the way." Jory was shaking his head. "My wife is expecting, she needs me. There is no glory in this! This was a mistake."

Duncan looked up with great sorrow. "There can be no mistakes."

Jory grabbed his sword and drew it, the edge of the metal glinting in the pale moonlight. He held it out towards Duncan. Caden couldn't believe what was happening. She saw Alistair rise and reach for his own weapon, no doubt his instinct to protect his commander, but Duncan was quicker. His own sword was out and ready, parrying Jorys clumsy, fear driven swings.

"Just let me leave, I shan't speak of this to anyone-" Jory pleaded, but it was too late. His fate was sealed. Duncan made light work of his foe, expertly blocking the panicked strikes until his blade sank into Jorys chest. Caden's blood ran cold as the light faded from Jorys eyes; his frantic fears fading with his life. Duncan pulled back his sword as Jory fell to his knees, dropping his own weapon and then he collapsed like a broken doll, in a heap on the floor of the clearing. Dead.

"Are you alright, Duncan?" Alistair asked. Duncan turned away from Jorys body and wiped his sword clean, without a word of an answer. Alistair hesitated only a moment before moving Jory off to one side, with the same tact as he had shown Daveth, despite the fact that he had watched this man attempt to kill his commander.

Caden stood alone now. Her fellow recruits were dead. It had only been a few minutes since Daveth had taken a sip from his cup, and now she was the only one left. She couldn't stop shivering. How had she gotten to this place?

"Caden, step forward and submit yourself to the taint." Duncan held out her goblet. Was there a steely tone to his voice that hadn't been there before or was she paranoid?

Caden stared up at the Warden Commander, unable to move, unable to speak. Alistair cautiously moved up beside him, eyes imploring her to do as instructed. Duncan gave her a long look. "Caden." There was no mistaking the authority in his voice now.

"You killed him." Caden finally managed. "You killed them both."

"The Joining is not without risk." Duncan repeated his words from earlier. "Step forward."

Caden heard her blood rush in her ears. She was fizzing with every sight and sound that had flashed before her in this clearing that she felt she might explode. It was all too much. "You didn't stop my execution, you just postponed it," Caden said, her voice hollow. "You swapped my head being mounted on a spike, for a secret ceremony in the middle of nowhere. You're giving me a poisoned cup and you're challenging me not to die." Now she laughed and the laughter was strangled and coarse.

"Are you refusing as Jory did?" Duncan asked. He hadn't moved any closer and the chalice remained between him and her, his arm outstretched. "Or will you drink?"

When Caden replied she looked squarely at Alistair. "Will you kill me if I don't?" Alistair looked away.

Without taking another second to think, Caden felt her body regain a sense of movement, bridging the short gap to the cup. She grabbed it, her hands suddenly steady and without pausing she closed her eyes and drank deep.

It tasted like metal. The taste of pricking a finger and sticking the digit in her mouth to stem the blood flow. It tasted like herbs, like nothing she could ever recall having ingested before. It tasted like the smell of a dying genlock. It tasted like salt, like crying into a pillow and feeling the tears dribble into a wailing mouth. Caden waited for the pain that killed Daveth to kick in and take her, too. She opened her eyes to see the men watching her. A moment ticked into the next and again and again. She still drew breath. Her heart still beat in her chest. Maybe this was all it took to Join. Maybe she was alright.

Oh...

Heat blossomed inside her, as if the poison had caught fire. She felt the pain flare up her throat, down her limbs, it was everywhere. Caden doubled over in shock and agony. Her breath was short, it was too hard to scream. The fierce flames consumed her.

She heard someone say her name from far, far away as the darkness dragged her down.

_How can I fight darkspawn if I'm on fire? I need water. I need... someone please save me. Sharp spikes in my head, over and over and over and over. Please save me from this, oh please. I'll do anything, just make it stop, make it stop! Take me, I don't care, take me, kill me, end this agony, oh please, oh please..._

_Where is she? I want my mother, mother, please save me. It hurts. The flames, the fire, the burning. This is…_

_It's abating...is it? I don't know. Have my nerves been burned away...is there anything left of me?_

_It's so dark here, but I can hear things all around me...voices whispering. What are they saying? I don't like this..._

_They're everywhere. All over. They creep around the edges and watch and wait and bide their time. I can feel...Him. I think it's a him. I know what he is._

_He knows what I am._

_Wait...there are people here...shadows...I can feel them. They're so few, but they stand between me and Him. Some are very far away and some are closer. They feel like...like fortress walls...like wards. The pain is duller now and I can feel them instead._

_The light is returning. Warmth and safety. No more fire._

_Open your eyes._

"It is done. From this moment forth, you are a Grey Warden." Those were the words that greeted Caden as she came to. Duncans face hovered over her. "Welcome, Caden Tabris, Warden-Sister."

Caden pushed him away before she could stop herself. He was too damn close. She scrambled backwards, creating some distance between her and Duncan, and Alistair who was peering over his shoulder.

"Give her some space," she heard Alistair murmur to his commander.

Caden felt dampness on her hand and looked to the side. She was beside Jorys body and when she raised her hand, she saw his blood smeared on her palm. She felt rage rise up and she hurried to her feet.

"Caden?" Alistair asked cautiously. "You survived."

"They didn't." She snapped with a gesture to the corpses next to her. She stood up on shaky legs.

"I know," Alistair sounded raw. "In my Joining only one of us died, but it was awful. I'm glad you made it through." He started towards her, with something in his hand. "I assure you, we don't forget the sacrifice of recruits who don't survive. And here, this is for you." He held out an amulet with a chain coiled in his palm. "We gather some of the blood and put it in a pendant, as a memento of those who didn't make it this far."

Caden stared down at the necklace in horror. "I don't want that," she spat. She thrust her hand out, swiping the amulet out of Alistairs palm and onto the ground. The silver of the necklace flashed in the as it caught the moonlight. She couldn't believe that she had felt sorry for him earlier. She couldn't stand the sight of him now, or Duncan. She whirled on the commander. "Why didn't you say what this took? You kept all of this back, kept it to yourselves. No wonder you have to conscript people; who would want to join something like this if they had a damn choice? You talk of honour, but this is not honourable. This is dumb luck, that I'm alive and they are dead." This was said with a growl and a wave of her hand towards the bodies of Jory and Daveth. Alistair was silent, Duncan patient. She wanted to smack them both. Instead she turned and grasped one of the torches stuck in the ground, wrenching it free and preparing to march off.

"Duncan...?" She heard Alistairs questioning tone, but neither made a move to stop her as she stalked out of the clearing. Before she lost herself between the trees, she heard Duncan call after her.

"Your training begins tomorrow morning, sister."


End file.
